He Who Would Travel Happy

Truth, For Any Man, Is That Which Makes Him A Man.

When The Body Sinks Into Death, The Essence Of Man Is Revealed. Man Is A Knot, A Web, A Mesh Into Which Relationships Are Tied. Only Those Relationships Matter. The Body Is An Old Crock That Nobody Will Miss. I Have Never Known A Man To Think Of Himself When Dying. Never.

Of What Worth Are Convictions That Bring Not Suffering?

I Am Very Fond Of Sunsets. Come, Let Us Go Look At A Sunset.

Only The Children Know What They Are Looking For.