Quotes About Journey

Quella strada del passato si srotolava confusamente di fianco a noi come se la tazza della vita si fosse rovesciata e ogni cosa fosse impazzita.

Whoo, Frisco nights, the end of the continent and the end of doubt, all dull doubt and tomfoolery, good-by

This was a manuscript of the night we couldn't read - Sal Paradise

All over America highschool and college kids thinking 'Jack Duluoz is 26 years old and on the road all the time hitch hiking' while there I am almost 40 years old, bored and jaded

I ate another apple pie and ice cream; that's practically all I ate all the way across the country, I knew it was nutritious and it was delicious, of course.

What's your road, man? – holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow.

Si seguis asi vais a volveros locos, pero por favor mantenedme al corriente de lo que os sucede en el camino.

We were so used to traveling we had to walk all over Long Island, but there was no more land, just the Atlantic Ocean, and we could only go so far.

I woke up from a deep sleep to find everybody sleeping like lambs and the car parked God knows where, because I couldn't see out the steamy windows. I got out of the car. We were in the mountains: there was a heaven of sunrise, cool purple airs, red mountainsides, emerald pastures in valleys, dew, and transmuting clouds of gold; on the ground gopher holes, cactus, mesquite. It was time for me to drive on.

My work comprises one vast book like Proust's except that my remembrances are written on the run instead of afterwards in a sick bed.

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? —it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies. We

And after a refreshing sleep filled with cobwebby dreams of my past life in the East I got up, washed in the station men's room, and strode off, fit and slick as a fiddle, and got me a rich thick milkshake at the roadhouse to put some freeze in my hot, tormented stomach.

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? —it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.

C'è sempre qualcosa di più, un po' più in là... non finisce mai.

Nulla dietro di me, tutto avanti, è sempre così sulla strada...

We live to long, so long I will, and jounce down that mountain highest perfect knowing or no highest perfect knowing full of glorious ignorant looking to sparkle elsewhere-

et je trainais derrière eux comme je l'ai fait toute ma vie derrière les gens qui m'intéressent

As I was hiking down the mountain woth my pack I turned and I knelt on the trail and said Thank you, Shack. The I added Blah with a little grin, because I knew that shack and that mountain would know what that meant, and turned and went on down the trail back to this world.

Qual è la tua strada, amico?... la strada del santo, la strada del pazzo, la strada dell'arcobaleno, la strada dell' imbecille, qualsiasi strada. È una strada in tutte le direzioni per tutti gli uomini in tutti i modi. Che direzione che uomo che modo?»

Ah, holy hole!

Hopalong Cassidy conducting his great white horse across the traffic;

And so we picked up our bags, he the trunk with his one good arm and I the rest, and staggered up to the cable-car stop; in a moment rolled down the hill with our legs dangling to the sidewalk from the jiggling shelf, two broken-down heroes of the Western night.

Con la aparición de Dean Moriarty comenzó la parte de mi vida que podría llamarse mi vida en la carretera

Put down the pen someone else gave you. No one ever drafted a life worth living on borrowed ink. Get to San Francisco. Get to San Francisco in defiance of your geography, your ancestry and the lonely change rattling sad excuses in your pocket. Fuel up on pie and diner coffee and mystic visions and the freedom of not knowing what's coming next except that you're burning the road to outrun it.