Everything looks different. The houses are all these wild colors. The light is strange. It smells primeval. You're on Mars.""You are talking about driving?" Lin attempted to clarify."About wanderlust," she answered.

That's a good girl." He leaned down, whispering into my ear. "I'm sorry about this. I really am. You’re too good.

The trees called to me, urging me to abandon what I knew and vanish into the oncoming night. It was a desire that had been tugging me with disconcerting frequency these days.

we both fitted. If our corners were not rubbed off they were at least pulled in. But deep in us both was something that made us require more for happiness. I didn't know what I wanted

Wanderlust is incurable.

You dervishes are as crazy as rats in a pantry. Especially you wandering types. All day long you fast and pray and walk under the scorching sun. No wonder you start hallucinating - your brain is fried!

After two stories, I blew out my light. The night was clear. My ceiling was the sky and an eyelash of the moon. By shifting from side to side, I made my hammock swing me into sleep.

I began to need my trips like other people need religion.

He said what nobody understood was, she always felt like a bird in a cage--she wanted to be without roots.

Immer noch wehte der Wind herein und zerrte und riss am Vorhang. Die Tür klapperte, und das Rattern des Zuges klang hell und aufgeregt, wie ein unermüdlich vorwärtstreibendes pochendes Herz. Da ergriff mich, ja überwältigte mich, eine Aufbruchsstimmung wie noch nie. Eine Gier nach Neuem: neuen Orten, Gesichtern, ach egal, Hauptsache anders, als es war!