They were like people who didn’t know their own mind. They had suffered so much; they had brought so much suffering on themselves. They looked so feeble and crazed when they came out of their villages and wandered about the town. They looked so much like people needing the food and the peace that the town offered. But it was people like them, going back to their villages, who wished to lay the town low again. Such rage! Like a forest fire that goes underground and burns unseen along the roots of trees it has already destroyed and then erupts in scorched land where it has little to feed on, so in the middle of destruction and want want the wish to destroy flared up again.
~ A Bend in the River, V. S. Naipaul
The boy turned away. The man held him. Listen to me, he said.
When your dreams are of some world that never was or of some world that never will be and you are happy again then you will have given up. Do you understand? And you cant give up. I wont let you.
~ The Road, Cormac McCarthy
The loss of the first grown-up possession I was ever given is obviously of no importance. But the concept that a nail file or a pair of nail clippers is a lethal weapon and constitutes a potential terrorist threat aboard a 747 jet indicates a state of universal caution, suspicion and fear that means the sheer adventure of travel, those wonderful freedom-seeking journeys into the unknown where you end up finding out as much about yourself as you do of others, may be coming to an end.
~ Getting Travel Dirt Under Your Fingernails, Bryce Courtenay
…a random line on a map took us to a place where we could find the courage we needed. And I’ve begun to understand the purpose of travel; a few days of seeing the world in a different way gives us the confidence to face whatever waits for us at home. Even mountains.
~ An Alpine Escape, Aliya Whiteley
Narrow minds devoid of imagination. Intolerance, theories cut off from reality, empty terminology, usurped ideals, inflexible systems. Those are the things that really frighten me. What I absolutely fear and loathe. Of course it’s important to know what’s right and what’s wrong. Individual errors in judgement can usually be corrected. As long as you have the courage to admit mistakes, things can be turned around. But intolerant, narrow minds with no imagination are like parasites that transform the host, change form and continue to thrive. They’re a lost cause, and I don’t want anyone like that coming in here.
~ Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami
We must, nevertheless, do him justice; malice was probably not innate in him. From his very first intercourse with men he had felt, and then had seen, himself repulsed, branded, despised. Human speech had never been to him aught but mockery and curses. As he grew up, he had found around him nothing but hatred. What wonder that he should have caught it! He had contracted it – he had but picked up the weapon that had wounded him.
After all, he turned towards mankind reluctantly – his cathedral was sufficient for him. It was peopled with figures in marble – with kings, saints, bishops – who, at all events, did not burst out laughing in his face, but looked upon him with calmness and benevolence. The other statues, those of monsters and demons, had no hatred for him, Quasimodo. He was too much like them for that. Their raillery seemed rather to be directed toward the rest of mankind. The saints were his friends, and blessed him; the monsters were his friends, and guarded him.
~ The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Victor Hugo
As he started running down the dark corridor, he began to smile. Haw didn’t realize it yet, but he was discovering what nourished his soul. He was letting go and trusting what lay ahead for him, even though he did not know exactly what it was.
To his surprise, Haw started to enjoy himself more and more. “Why do I feel so good?” he wondered. “I don’t have any Cheese and I don’t know where I am going.”
Before long, he knew why he felt good. He stopped to write again on the wall:
When You Move Beyond Your Fear, You Feel Free.
Haw realized he had been held captive by his own fear. Moving in a new direction had freed him.
~ Who Moved My Cheese?, Dr. Spencer Johnson