Et maintenant, au coeur de la nuit comme un veilleur, il découvre que la nuit montre l’homme: ces appels, ces lumières, cette inquiétude. Cette simple étoile dans l’ombre: l’isolement d’une maison. L’une s’éteint: c’est une...

With her enchanting songs, her rare beauty, and clever tricks, this wild ‘wanderess’ ensnared my soul like a gypsy-thief, and led me foolish and blind to where you find me now. The first time I...

She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. ‘Time’ for her isn’t something to fight against....

The word “travel” comes from the Old French word “travail” (or “travailler”), which means “to work, to labor; a suffering or painful effort, an arduous journey, a tormenting experience.” (“Travel,” thus, is “a painful and...

You must give everything to make your life as beautiful as the dreams that dance in your imagination.

All I want in this life are three…a moonlit beach on the starlit sea,a breath of opium, and thee.

I was an adventurer, but she was not an adventuress. She was a ‘wanderess.’ Thus, she didn’t care about money, only experiences – whether they came from wealth or from poverty, it was all the...

When she was a child, my love carried a road-map in her hand the way other girls carried handkerchiefs. She always knew the way. Her feet were little wings. And her beautiful head was a...

As for you girls, you must risk everything for Freedom, and give everything for Passion, loving everything that your hearts and your bodies love. The only thing higher for a girl and more sacred for...

I once had a lovewho folded secrets between her thighs like napkins and concealed memories in the valley of her breasts.There was no match for the freckles on her chest, and no one could mistake...

She called herself Europa, and wandered the world from girlhood till death. She believed only in her life and in her dreams. She called herself Europa, and her god was Beauty.

I’ve been lying in the grass. All morning long, I lay here waiting for the dawn.

Wandering is the activity of the child, the passion of the genius; it is the discovery of the self, the discovery of the outside world, and the learning of how the self is both “at...

To wander is to be alive.