Alas, those six unfortunate souls who have made their way through my books know that every one of them is about Emerson and Thoreau and their dark counters, Melville and Emily Dickinson. Try as I might, I can't get their inspirations, their challenges and sentences and wisdom and questions out of my head. Pico Iyer
Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and Robbins must...
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Tom Robbins
Does he treat you with respect at all times? That's the first question. The second question is, if he is the exact same person twenty years from now that he is today, would you still want to marry him? And finally, does he inspire to...
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Colleen Hoover
He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how.
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Friedrich Nietzsche
I don't get it, ' Caroline said, bemused. 'She's the only one with wings. Why is that?' There were so many questions in life. You couldn't ever have all the answers. But I knew this one. It's so she can fly, ' I said. Then...
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Sarah Dessen
Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not...
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Rainer Maria Rilke
More Quotes By Pico Iyer
We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers will accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can, in our ignorance and knowledge,...
Writing is, in the end, that oddest of anomalies: an intimate letter to a stranger.
One of the strange laws of the contemplative life, " Thomas Merton, one of its sovereign explorers, pointed out, "is that in it you do not sit down and solve problems: you bear with them until they somehow solve themselves. Or until life solves them...
... a man sitting still is alone, often, with the memory of all he doesn't have. And what he does have can look very much like nothing.
Serendipity was my tour guide, assisted by caprice
