Da distância

If home is the parental home, it is no thread; it is only the past. Letters written by parents are messages from a shore we are foresaking; all they can do is make us aware of how far we have strayed from the port  we left, enveloped in the selfless devotion of our loved ones. Yes, their letters say, the port still exists, it's still there in all its conforting, pristine beauty; but the road back, the way back is lost. 

Milan Kundera, The Joke