The red sands of Marrakesh, sprawling at the foot of the Atlas like a wounded Leviathan.

The perfect journey is never finished, the goal is always just across the next river, round the shoulder of the next mountain. There is always one more track to follow, one more mirage to explore.

it is a curious fact that camels walk more quickly and straighter to the sound of singing.

It is true there is a scent in the desert, though there may be no flower or tree or blade of grass within miles. It is the essence of the untrodden, untarnished earth herself!

The desert has a subtle and a cruel charm. She destroys while she enthralls.

That is the charm of the map. It represents the other side of the horizon where everything is possible.

The laws all true wanderers obey are these: 'Thou shalt not eat nor drink more than thy share,' 'Thou shalt not lie about the places thou hast visited or the distances thou hast traversed.

the camels had strayed far in search of scarce grass. When collected, they displayed a fiendish ingenuity in throwing their loads and tangling themselves up in every possible strap.

There were twelve dishes of lamb cooked in different rich sauces, with a monster bowl of strange oddments, which I imagine also belonged to the private life of a sheep, floating in rich gravy.

The red sands of Marrakesh, sprawling at the foot of the Atlas like a wounded Leviathan....

The power of prayer is the purity of life.

Always act like you are the king of your own world that you created on the day of your birth. Enjoy your kingdom.

Poetry is the guardian of love - constructed from truth it is a bridge that can be crossed from either side and it is oblivious of age or gender

To fear is to have more faith in your antagonist than in Christ.

If you read the Holy Scriptures, you shall find strength for soul.

I know I ain't nobody's bargain, but hell a little touchup and a little paint.

Not exactly hit them, but I've restrained a few people.

You're never going to satisfy everybody.

Yours is only what you always have on you.

Children, for whom suburban life was supposed to make wholesome little Johns and Wendys, became the acid-dropping, classroom-burning hippies of the 1960s.