“By wandering aimlessly, all places became equal, and it no longer mattered where he was.”

“Each time he took a walk, he felt as though he were leaving himself behind, and by giving himself up to the movement of the streets, by reducing himself to a seeing eye, he was able to escape the obligation to think, and this, more than anything else, brought him a measure of peace, a salutary emptiness within...By wandering aimlessly, all places became equal and it no longer mattered where he was. On his best walks he was able to feel that he was nowhere. And this, finally was all he ever asked of things: to be nowhere.”

“An Abel Muranda without his wife and children would be a wandering bachelor without any dignity. He would sleep in caves and feed on wild berries. But no matter how lonely life became, he would never come to a place like this”

“The peahens waddled round, following the peacock wherever he went. He couldn't see in the night, so he wandered around aimlessly in the pen. Go the other way, she wanted to scream at the gimpy peahen. Stop worrying about where he's going and just rest.”

“It doesn't matter," he said to his sheep. "I know other girls in other places." But in his heart he knew that it did matter. And he knew that shepherds, like seamen and like traveling salesmen, always found a town where there was someone who could make them forget the joys of carefree wandering.”

“We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive. This is Russia and it is 1952. What else would you call hell?”