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“Erantsiko nuke hemen ezerk, ez hitzarmenek, muga diplomatiko horiek, ez Pirinioek muga natural horiek, hautsi ahal izan ez duten lotura sekretu eta sakon batek batzen dituela euskal familia misteriotsuaren haurride guztiak. “Nafarroa” hitz zaharra ez da hitz bat. Euskaraz sortu, euskaraz mintza, euskaraz bizi eta euskaraz hil.
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“A curtain of tall green mountains, their summits standing out against a brilliant sky ; at the foot of the mountains a row of houses placed closely together; all the houses painted white, saffron, and green, with two or three tiers of large balconies shaded by the prolongation of their great, red, hollow-tiled roofs; on all the balconies a thousand fluttering things, linen drying, nets, rags-red, yellow, and blue; beneath the houses, the sea; half-way up the hill on my right, a white church; on my left, in the foreground, at the foot of another mountain, another group of balconied houses terminating in an old dismantled tower; vessels of every kind and boats of every size ranged before the houses, moored beneath the tower, gliding over the bay; about the ships, the tower, the houses, the church, the rag on the mountains and in the sky, a life, a movement, a warmth, a blueness, an atmosphere, a gaiety inexpressible,-this was what I had before my eyes.”
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