She had a mind like a box of fireworks and hands that played recklessly with matches.
Backpacking is the art of knowing what not to take.
I don’t care if it’s a sad good-bye or a bad good-bye, but when I leave a place I like to know I’m leaving it.
But that’s the wonderful thing about foreign travel, suddenly you are five years old again. You can’t read anything, you have only the most basic sense of how things work, you can’t even reliably cross the street without endangering your life. Your whole existence becomes a series of interesting guesses.
Your worst enemy cannot harm you as much as your own unguarded thoughts.
My wish for you is that you continue. Continue to be who and how you are, to astonish a mean world with your acts of kindness. Continue to allow humor to lighten the burden of your tender heart.