Quotes About Journey

She walks back, more slowly, the way she came. How odd it feels, to move along the same streets, the route in reverse, like inking over old words, her feet the quill, going back over work, rewriting, erasing. Partings are strange. It seems so simple: one minute ago, four, five, he was here, at her side; now, he is gone. She was with him; she is alone. She feels exposed, chill, peeled like an onion.

Az ötedeki patikada büyük bir kayan?n ard?ndan bir adam ç?k?veriyor.

A boy is coming down a flight of stairs.

Do you think, Daniel," she said to him, rolling over onto her back so that she was able to look out of the window while she spoke, "that we might have reached the end of our story?

Peter had been feeling lately that perhaps he and Jenny had come to the end of their story

before she passes into that other realm, before she breathes her last.

Sadness keeps attempting to tie weights to her wrists and ankles, therefore she has to keep moving, she has to outpace it. And so she walks, along one terrace then another, from one battlement to the next

May we walk with grace and may the light of the universe shine upon our path.

You should slow down. Learn to enjoy the journey. You never really get where you're going, anyway.

Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth and the soul requires inward restfulness to attain its full height.

Faith is not an understandable thing, but a thing to grow.

Have I had two roads, I would have chosen their third.

On the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and I wanted to look at you.

Where can I free myself of the homeland in my body?

I have learned and dismantled all the words in order to draw from them a single word: Home.

I leave the other side of my life where it wants to stay, and follow the remainder of my life in search of the other side of it.

There is no name for what life should be, except what you did and what you do to my soul.

Where should we go after the last frontiers ? Where should the birds fly after the last sky ? Where should the plants sleep after the last breath of air ?

Where can I write my latest account of the body's incarnation? It's the end of what was bound to end! Where is that which ends? Where can I free myself of the homeland in my body?

All roads lead to you, even those I took to forget you.

Where is my second road to the staircase of expanse? Where is futility? Where is the road to the road? And where are we, the marching on the footpath of the present tense, where are we? Our talk a predicate and a subject before the sea, and the elusive foam of speech the dots on the letters, wishing for the present tense a foothold on the pavement …

I have passed by many eyes but only got lost in yours.

No one has arrived. Leave me there as you would leave a myth with any person who sees you until he cries and rushes into himself, afraid of happiness.

One day I will become a bird and unsheathe my existence out of my void. When the two wings burn I'll near the truth and reincarnate from ash. I am the dialogue of dreamers. I turned away from my body and my self to complete my first journey toward meaning, but meaning burned me and disappeared. I am absence. The heavenly and the expelled from "Mural