[T]he poetic soul… a living lyre, it only lives enough to echo, and all that it has of life it pours out, and spends in song: the inspiring tripod which the poet ascends, at once unites him to, and separates him from, society. – Alexandre Vinet (1797–1847)

All I knew about Ethiopia was from a few records that I like, as well as what I read about the famine. But you get there and its another world. Its filled with art and music and poetry and intellectuals and writers – all kinds of people. – Flea