A good place to visit, but a poor place to stay.
A place belongs forever to whoever claims it hardest, remembers it most obsessively, wrenches it from itself, shapes it, renders it, loves it so radically that he remakes it in his own image.
God gives all men all earth to love, but since man's heart is small, ordains for each one spot shall prove belovFd over all.
One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering.
The accent of one's birthplace remains in the mind and in the heart as in one's speech.
The local is a shabby thing. There's nothing worse than bringing us back down to our own little corner, our own territory, the radiant promiscuity of the face to face. A culture which has taken the risk of the universal, must perish by the universal.