“This path, this road that is one perfect straight line even if it goes around the world through heat and fog and rain and snow and it's my life I keep thinking. It's my life.”

“The ex-pat's life with all its homesickness and loneliness and privileges and perks, with its dizzy ups and miserable downs, was certainly not ordinary.”

“Choosing to be deligent in all areas of your life is not for the weak of heart. It requires hope, strength and the ability to see the light through the fog.”

“As much as I try to make the past keep still and mind its manners, it moves and murmurs with me through every day.”

“I loved the exuberance of the place. A sense of liberation and love of life penetrated every room. His home was like his poetry, full of hints of fantasy, allegory and hedonism. Neruda's presence was everywhere writ large on the house. He had build it, seemingly haphazardly without any architect's plans or permission from authority. In a sense, the house had the same structure as a poem on first reading - awkward and confused. Yet wandering through it was like wandering through his poems. Suddenly everything fell in to place. A romantic avant-garde poet could not have lived anywhere else.”

“Where Destiny sets its path,Fate shall follow...:”

“I have never got a grip on when the past begins or where it ends, but if cities map the past with statues made from bronze forever frozen in one dignified position, as much as I try to make the past keep still and mind its manners, it moves and murmurs with me through every day.”