The inferno of the living is not something that will be; if there is one, it is what is already here, the inferno where we live every day, that we form by being together. There are two ways to escape suffering it. THe first is easy for many: accept the inferno and become such a part of it that you no longer see it. The second is risky and demands constant vigilance and apprehension: seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the intern, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space.
Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a past of his that he did not know he had: the foreigners of what you no longer are or no longer possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed places.