When you strike off on your own, leave some trace of your passage which will guide you coming back: one stone set on another, some grass weighted by a stick. But if you come to an impasse or a dangerous spot, remember that the trail you have left could lead people coming after you into trouble. So go back along your trail and obliterate any traces you have left. This applies to anyone who wishes to leave some mark of his passage in the world. Even without wanting to, you always leave a few traces. Be ready to answer to your fellow men for the trail you leave behind you.

But how can you walk away from something and still come back to it?

There came a time when you realized that moving on was pointless. That you took yourself with you wherever you went.

But at times I wondered if I had not come a long way only to find that what I really sought was something I had left behind.

If you heart begins to beat when you get to the end of your journey, retrace your steps.

My advice: just keep movin' straight ahead. Every now and then you find yourself in a different place.

And then suddenly I would realize that I couldn’t remember, hadn’t actually consciously experienced, any of the last forty-seven properties I had visited, and didn’t know if I had left a paper or just walked up to the door, stood for a moment like an underfunctioning automaton, and turned around and walked away again. It is not easy to describe the sense of self-disappointment that comes with reaching the end of your route and finding that there are sixteen undelivered papers in your bag and you don’t have the least idea—not the least idea—to whom they should have gone. I spent much of my prepubescent years first walking an enormous newspaper route, then revisiting large parts of it. Sometimes twice.

I think that when you remember, remember, remember everything like that, you could go on until you remember what was there before you were in the world.

It was, I remembered thinking, the most difficult walk anyone ever had to make. In every way, a walk to remember.

Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.

What you don't know may not hurt you, but what you don't remember always does.

All that we were has led us to where we are, but tells us little of where we’re going. Memories are a weight you can never shrug off.

Regrets hold you back; you just have to forge forward

And when you can no longer remember, just meaningless things here and there and you can't. But still try even then, as the twilight sets in, stand and look at the past, walk again along the corridors where your eyes used to wander, attentive ghosts, open the boxes, think of the other side of the wall. Sit at the side of the road and see yourself pass. See the web, see how the passages of the maze all lead again to the same point which does not exactly coincide with the exit.