Home is wherever I go.

Can you take your country with you on the soles of your shoes?

I have loved justice and hated iniquity: therefore I die in exile.

Exile lacks the grandeur, the majesty, of expatriation.

Emigration is easy, but immigration is something else. To flee, yes; but to be accepted?

Those who go overseas find a change of climate, not a change of soul.

Civilization, as we know it, is a movement and not a condition, a voyage and not a harbor.

Uprootedness is by far the most dangerous malady to which human societies are exposed, for it is a self-propagating one.

To live exiled from a place you have known intimately is to experience sensory deprivation. A wide-awake coma.

Do not fear the clatter of wheels, the bumps and slops in corridors. It is only turbulence.

Whole nations have melted away like balls of snow before the sun.

Usually speaking, the worst-bred person in company is a young traveler just returned from abroad.

I am not Athenian or Greek but a citizen of the world.