Yourcenar: I suppose that a sage, like one of the old Taoists, could circumnavigate the globe several times without leaving home, without ever stepping outside his cell. That would be the mark of a true sage.

Galey: He would dream his way out.

Yourcenar: Even more remarkable, he would think his way.

From Marguerite Yourcenar’s With Open Eyes: Conversations with Matthieu Galey, Boston: Beacon Press, 1984 (first published in 1980), p. 111.

Addendum I (December 11, 1993)

Yourcenar was deluded on at least two counts. First, an old Taoist worth this name would not be sitting in a cell or have a home. Why would an elephant ever depart or arrive? Second, an old Taoist worth this name would not wish to circumnavigate the globe, let alone several times. Why would a tiger want to visit the Dordogne or Central Park in New York City? Perhaps Yourcenar was thinking about the not-so-old Taoists?

Addendum II (December 13, 1993)

Without going out-of-doors, one may know all under heaven; without peering through windows, one may know the Way of heaven. The farther one goes, the less one knows. For this reason, the sage knows without journeying, understands without looking, accomplishes without acting.

From Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching (translated by Victor H. Mair), New York: Bantam Books, 1990, p. 15.