Quotes About Journey

I think I'll paint roads on my front room walls to convince myself that I'm going places

One wanders through life as if wandering through a field in the dark of night, wearing a blindfold and very heavy shoes, with a poisonous toad waiting patiently beneath a clump of weeds, knowing full well that eventually you will step on him.

Life never end when you are in it.

E!" Klaus cried. "E as in Exit!" The Baudelaires ran down E as in Exit, but when they reached the last cabinet, the row was becoming F as in Falling File Cabinets, G as in Go the Other Way! and H as in How in the World Are We Going to Escape?

There are some who say that sitting at home reading is the equivalent of travel, because the experiences described in the book are more or less the same as the experiences one might have on a voyages, and there are those who say that there is no substitute for venturing out into the world. My own opinion is that it is best to travel extensively but to read the entire time, hardly glancing up to look out of the window of the airplane, train, or hired camel.

and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey.

I thought maybe if I stared hard enough, I could see the lights of the city I had left so very far behind. This was nonsense, of course, but there's nothing wrong with occasionally staring out the window and thinking nonsense, as long as the nonsense is yours.

I guess we'll be traveling in uncharted waters." "That'll be fun," Phil said.

Hal is on his way." The nurse announced reentering the room.

The only thing worse than a perilous adventure is a boring one.

There are people like this wherever you go. They are part of the same mystery as you are, but you can't quite tell how you fit together. The world is a puzzle, and we cannot solve it alone.

What might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey.

It is likely your own eyes were closed when you were born, so that you left the safe place of your mother's womb—or, if you are a seahorse, your father's yolk sac—and joined the treachery of the world without seeing exactly where you were going.

And as the Baudelaires told Hector their long story, they began to feel as if the handyman was carrying more than their suitcases. They felt as if he was carrying each word they said, as if each unfortunate event was a burden that Hector was helping them with. The story of their lives was so miserable that I cannot say they felt happy when they were through telling it, but by the time Sunny concluded the whole long story, the Baudelaires felt as if they were carrying much less.

It is likely that your own eyes were closed when you were born, so that you left the safe place of your mother's womb - or, if you are a seahorse, your father's yolk sac - and joined the treachery of the world without seeing exactly where you were going.

One could say, in fact, that no story really has a beginning, and that no story really has an end

There were, he said contemptuously (...) only two stories, really: A stranger comes to town and Someone goes on a journey. (...) A woman (...) murmered a secret to me: "Those are the same story.

Celebrate when you're half done, And the finish won't be half as fun.

A lock isn't going to stop us. Not when we've come all this way.

In any case, this is how all our stories begin, in darkness with out eyes closed, and all out stories end the same way, too.

I looked out the window at the dark and racing scenery and I thought of the city, where the train would eventually arrive. I hadn't seen the city since my apprenticeship began, and for a moment I felt so homesick I had to stop and lean my head against the glass. Dear Kit, I thought. And then I said it out loud. "I wish you were here.

For Beatrice - When we met, my life began. Soon after, yours ended.

Each meal you eat is poison, because the food is just moving you through the world and the end of your time in it. Dinner is poison, and lunch. Brunch and eleveneses and both afternoon and bedtime snacks are poison, and so is breakfast the next morning, all these meals bringing us closer and closer to death.

Ô Mort, vieux capitaine, il est temps! levons l'ancre! Ce pays nous ennuie, ô Mort! Appareillons! Si le ciel et la mer sont noirs comme de l'encre, Nos coeurs que tu connais sont remplis de rayons!