They exchange their home and sweet thresholds for exile, and seek under another sun another home.

When the root lives on, the new leaves come back.

One should always have one’s boots on and be ready to leave.

Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but most important, it finds homes for us everywhere.

There are places one comes home to that one has never been to.

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

Life’s no resting, but a moving.

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

I have been a stranger here in my own land all my life.

Home is wherever I go.

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

It was lonesome, the leaving.

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