I have always been only going and going. I have never been a life into sth that one could grasp with his hands and never has there been an answer to the question "whereto?". I have been going on and on, a wanderer through many lands, a guest at many hearts, but the longing has never been stilled, and although I am a stranger no more, I have struct no root.

The meaning of all my wandering lay in a hidden desire to meet myself by meeting a world whose approach to the innermost questions of life, to reality itself, was different from all I had been accoustumed to in my childhood and youth.

My interests lay more in the direction of things seen and felt: people, activities and relationship.

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