Ella Maillart

Only when one is able to grasp wideness can one possess it.

One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.

Others are keen to see if natives other than us live better than we do, without heat in pipes, ice in boxes, sunshine in bulbs, music on disks, or images gliding over a pale screen.

By pouring money and goods into devastated regions, foreign aid workers sometimes compound the disruption and debauch the survivors.

All true language is incomprehensible, like the chatter of a beggar's teeth.

I generally don't follow domestic news that much aside from how it relates to the stories I'm covering abroad, like what Americans think of the War in Afghanistan.