Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.

I was surprised, as always, by how easy the act of leaving was, and how good it felt. The world was suddenly rich with possibility.

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

I looked up at the sky; the pure, wonderful stars were still there, burning.

I think my sudden love for this girl is a truer expression of myself than anything.

I think my sudden love for this girl is a truer expression of myself than anything.

It’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.

Avoid the world, it's just a lot of dust and drag and means nothing in the end.

This was a manuscript of the night we couldn't read" - sal paradise, on the road.