“I pedaled along the mountain roads, the deep-green pastures punctuated by the occasional white oblong house. These houses stood all alone, scattered one by one across the mountainside. Did anyone still live there? I wondered.”


“Juárez, it seemed, was the perfect setting for a killer or killers. The victims were plentiful, poor, and trusting, and the crimes seemed to go unpunished. And yet the question remained, who was killing these young women and why?”


“The original scent of Jordan is here: sesame, olive, incense, rosewater, orange blossom water, dust, jasmine, thyme.”


“I went to sleep dreaming of Malawi, and all the things made possible when your dreams are powered by your heart.”


“The ground is still filled with rings, and money, and pictures and Jewish things. I was only able to find a few of them, but they fill the earth.”


“Books, he said, are ingrained in his soul, and books, he is convinced, will save Timbuktu. Words form the sinew and muscle that hold societies upright.”


“We loved Haiti. We hated Haiti. We did not understand or know Haiti. Years later, I still did not understand Haiti but I longed for the Haiti of my childhood. When I was kidnapped, I knew I would never find that Haiti ever again.”


“A mile from the village we entered a stand of trees two hundred feet tall. This was the rain forest. It was cool and dark; except for occasional glimpses, I was not to see the sun for the next four weeks.”


“One thing is fairly certain: the concept of Danishness is changing. How to be Danish is hard enough to explain in 2014. How to be Danish in two decades’ time is anyone’s guess.”

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