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A little imagination goes a long way in Fes.
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The inertia of a jungle village is a dangerous thing. Before you know it your whole life has slipped by and you are still waiting there.
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Any man who has ever led an army, an expedition, or a group of Boy Scouts has sadism in his bones.
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To be selfless, you would give charity anonymously, walj softly on the earth, and look out for others-even total strangers-before you look out for yourself. For the Arab mind, the self is an obstacle, an impediment, in humanity's quest foe real progress.
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Respect was one thing. Survival was another. It was important that I kept my priorities in the right order.
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Through bitter experience I have learned that it is best to promise little and then to reward hard work with generosity.
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In some peculiar way, indeed, the rules were now beginning to seem quite logical. It was then I knew that I had been in India long enough.
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During the days I felt myself slipping into a kind of madness. Solitary confinement has an astonishing effect on the mind. The trip was to stay calm and keep myself occupied. I spent hours working out how to break free. But trying to escape would have been instant suicide.
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I felt sure we could gain the upper hand by putting ourselves in the mindset of the Incas.
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My father used to tell me that stories offer the listener a chance to escape but, more importantly, he said, they provide people with a chance to maximize their minds. Suspend ordinary constraints, allow the imagination to be freed, and we are charged with the capability of heighetned thought.
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Usually, there is nothing more pleasing that returning to a place where you have endured hardship.
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The forest did not tolerate frailty of body or mind. Show your weakness, and it would consume you without hesitation.
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Searching for a lost city is a particularly European obsession.
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In moments of great uncertainty on my travels, I have always felt that something is protecting me, that i will come to no harm.
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The very fact that a Frenchman was prepared, after two minutes of conversation, to be so friendly towards anyone, especially one who had come from England, made me restless.
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Previous journeys had taught me the danger of taking too much stuff.
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The rain of Madre de Dios is similar to that of the Amazon, but there is a petrifying aspect to it, as if it seeks to wound rather than to nurture.
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These days no one challenges us,' he said. 'And because there is no challenge, there is no reason to work hard. And with no reason to work hard, we have all become lazy.
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In India everything has a use and a value.
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My father used to say that stories are part of the most precious heritage of mankind.
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To Succeed, you must reach for the stars, and let your imagination find its own path
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Back at the Chateau Windsor there was a rat-like scratching at the door of my room. Vinod, the youngest servant, came in with a soda water. He placed it next to the bag of toffees. Then he watched me read. I was used to being observed reading. Sometimes the room would fill like a railway station at rush hour and I would be expected to cure widespread boredom