No one really belongs; at least not in this world. If there were a heaven, maybe there, but, even if there were, in it would be the souls who could bear witness to the undeniable cruelty of life, the poverty of the unwanted.

My life was a wandering; I never had a homeland. It was a matter of being constantly tossed about, without rest; nowhere and never did I find a home.

I have no place to go; Nobody to call me back home. I may as well live alone.

I show Dave the dummy for my book. He reads every bit of writing, looks at every picture, and asks no questions. When he's done, he wipes his hands on the book.

Home is a notion that only nations of the homeless fully appreciate and only the uprooted comprehend.

What happens if emergency bed spaces are closed? Homeless people will 'tramp', they will walk, to an area where they can find a bed for the night. Is it any surprise then that areas with good services for homeless people have a higher homeless population? No; it necessarily follows. It has always been this way and so, it will always be. What a nonsense.