— Susan Sontag
Context: A curious word, wanderlust. I'm ready to go.
I've already gone. Regretfully, exultantly. A prouder lyricism. It's not Paradise that's lost.
Advice. Move along, let's get cracking, don’t hold me down, he travels fastest who travels alone. Let's get the show on the road. Get up, slugabed. I'm clearing out of here. Get your ass in gear. Sleep faster, we need the pillow.
She's racing, he's stalling.
If I go this fast, I won't see anything. If I slow down —
Everything. — then I won't have seen everything before it disappears.
Everywhere. I've been everywhere. I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.
Land's end. But there's water, O my heart. And salt on my tongue.
The end of the world. This is not the end of the world.
"Unguided Tour", in The New Yorker (31 October 1977), final lines; also in I, Etcetera (1977)