… it is easier to sail many thousands of miles through cold and storm and cannibals, in a government ship, with five hundred men and boys to assist one, than it is to explore the private sea, the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean of one’s being alone.
They were anchorites, i.e., withdrawers, because being by no means satisfied with that victory whereby they had trodden underfoot the hidden snares of the devil (while still living among men), they were eager to fight with the devil in open conflict and straightforward battle, and so feared not to penetrate the vast recesses of the desert.
Was that what travel meant? An exploration of the deserts of memory, rather than those around me?