Quotes About Journey

Was a particular person a "saint" because she sacrificed her own journey in service to others; was her life as lived in fact her authentic journey, or was she driven by complexes so powerful as to render her incapable of choosing anything else?

David McKay, 1900. Wolfe, Thomas. Look Homeward, Angel. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1929. Yeats, William Butler. A Vision

Who I am, who you are, is the gift.

was her life as lived in fact her authentic journey, or was she driven by complexes so powerful as to render her incapable of choosing anything else?

Occasionally someone rises from evening meal, Goes outside, and goes, and goes, and goes. . . Because somewhere in the East a sanctuary stands. And his children lament as though he had died. And another, who dies within his house, Remains there, remains amid dishes and glasses, So

We have to stumble through so much dirt and humbug before we reach home. And we have no one to guide us. Our only guide is our homesickness.

When you're living through it, though, especially when you are twelve and you think the whole world is changing until you realize it isn't the world, it's you, no piece seems little. It's all so big you think it can kill you. But it doesn't. Which is why the story goes on.

Plotting is an organic, and wildly inefficient process of trial and error.

I wanted real adventures to happen to myself. But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

If Socrates leaves his house today he will find the sage seated on his doorstep. If Judas go forth tonight it is to Judas his steps will tend.' Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-law. But always meeting ourselves.

A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

I am, a stride at a time. A very short space of time through very short time of space.

I have left my book, I have left my room, For I heard you singing Through the gloom.

Good puzzle would be cross Dublin without passing a pub.

riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

The end he had been born to serve yet did not see had led him to escape by an unseen path and now it beckoned to him once more and a new adventure was about to be opened to him.

I am, a stride at a time

Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.

But real adventures, I reflected, do not happen to people who remain at home: they must be sought abroad.

To live, to err, to fall, to triumph, to recreate life out of life.

The shortest way to Tara is via Holyhead

Sleep, where in the waste is the wisdom?

i know by heart the places he likes to saale, delvan first and duvlin after, by dredgerous lands and devious delts

He waited for some moments, listening, before he too took up the air with them. He was listening with pain of spirit to the overtone of weariness behind their frail fresh innocent voices. Even before they set out on life's journey they seemed weary already of the way.