Quotes About Journey

Meet it is that thou shouldst learn all things, as well the unshaken heart of persuasive truth, as the opinions of mortals in which is no true belief at all. Yet none the less shalt thou learn of these things also, since thou must judge approvedly of the things that seem to men as thou goest through all things in thy journey.

Shining by night with borrowed light, wandering round the earth.

The sea is not a surface. It is, from top to bottom, an abyss. "If you want to cross the sea, sink.

Caminar no consuela. Caminar hace pensar. Cada paso argumenta.

Épicure a écrit : Chacun sort de la vie comme s'il était à peine né.

Lire c'est errer. La lecture est l'errance.

Sentía la necesidad de reconocer todo lo que había vivido. Sentía la necesidad de recuperar todo lo que aquí, tiempo atrás, descubrió del mundo.

But the soul of touring and the heart of it is basically every day is like putting up a circus tent.

What are we running for When there's no where we can run to anymore?

Fly Heisenberg Airlines – we don't know where we are, but we're making damned good time.

Without music, life is a journey through a desert.

Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers, that the mind can never break off from the journey.

Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.

Without music and dance, life is a journey through a desert.

My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.

Go on, hitch a ride on the back of a butterfly. There's no better way to fly.

I read books when I was a kid, lots of books. Books always seemed like magic to me. They took you to the most amazing places. When I got older, I realized I couldn't find books that took me to all the places I wanted to go. To go to those places, I had to write some books myself.

Rising up into the air, they took to the sky and flew. From west and beyond west, into the wind and through it, they came past countless moons and suns. One laughed and briefly wore a scarf of raindrops in her hair, and then with wicked feet she kicked a cloud and caused rain to swamp a boat.

He gripped it and the sky began to spin; and Pidge knew that if he didn't put it right, the country would somehow obey the signpost and twist around and that, even though he was directly headed for Shancreg and home, he would end up in Kyledove.

Leave your heart open to Divine guidance, not passively as a leaf upon the river, but as a navigator on that river who may flow with the lovely depth and swiftness of the current yet who also takes responsibility for his own craft.

Follow, poet, follow right to the bottom of the night. I have no choice but to pursue the deepest truth my life has given me.

If, however, we take the story as a metaphor for the journey of the writer/artist, perhaps it is telling us that a time comes when we must take what we have learned, but go on without our parents, our teachers, our mentors, those who first showed us the way. We must go beyond at least some of our companions. And that necessary individuation—that breaking free—is sometimes very hard, sometimes even psychologically violent.

Yes. It is. —June 23, 2012, at night driving from Henrietta back to Knoxville with the tape recorder off, thirteen months after diagnosis

I thought of you with your hair silver as snow all through that cold, slow journey from Sirle. I felt you troubled deep within me, and there was no other place in the world I would rather have been than in the cold night riding to you. When you opened your gates to me, I was home.