Traveling is a Brutality.

 

 

 

I love this poem by Cesare Pavese.

 

Traveling is a brutaality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends. 

You are constantly off balance. Nothing is yours except the essential things: air, sleep, dreams, sea, the sky -- all things tending toward the eternal, or what we imagine of it.