When you set out on your journey to Ithaca, pray that the road is long, full of adventure, full of knowledge. The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops, the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them: You will never find such as these on your path if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine emotion touches your spirit and your body, if you do not carry them within your soul, and your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long. That the summer mornings are many, when, with such pleasure, with such joy, you will enter ports seen for the first time; stop at Phoenician markets, and purchase fine merchandise, mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony, and sensual perfumes of all kinds, as many sensual perfumes as you can.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind. To arrive there is your ultimate goal. But do not hurry the voyage at all. It is better to let it last for many years; and to anchor at the island when you are old, rich with experience you have gained on the way, not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you. Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage. Without her you would have never set out on the road. She has nothing more to give you.