Quotes About Journey

hameye ma dar barkhord ba gozashte chenin raftar mikonim,sagha va adamha

La primera vez que entendía que la memoria es un lugar, un sitio de verdad al que se podía ir

Ya?amlar?m?z bizi al?p denetleyemeyece?imiz biçimde sürükler ve hemen hemen her ?ey de?i?ir. Biz ölünce her ?ey de ölür, ölüm her gün ya?ad???m?z bir ?eydir.

It was never possible for him to be where he was. For as long as he lived, he was somewhere else, between here and there. But never really have. And never really there.

Ali onda, jednoga dana, zidovi vaše ku?e se najzad sruše. Ako vrata ipak još uvek stoje, sve što treba da uradite je da pro?ete kroz njih, i ponovo ste ušli unutra. Prijatno je spavati pod zvezdama. Nema veze ako pada kiša. Sigurno ne?e dugo.

Entrances do not become exits, and there is nothing to guarantee that the door you walked through a moment ago will still be there when you turn around to look for it again.

For one whole year he did nothing but drive, traveling back and forth across America as he waited for the money to run out.

Cuanto más cerca estás del final, más tienes que decir. El final es sólo imaginario, un destino que te inventas para seguir andando, pero llega un momento en que adviertes que nunca llegarás allí. Es probable que tengas que detenerte, pero será sólo porque te ha faltado tiempo. Te detienes, pero eso no quiere decir que hayas llegado al fin.

Nikad nije umeo da bude tamo gde se nalazio. Jer ?itavog svog života, bio je negde drugde, izme?u tu i tamo. Ali nikada sasvim tu. I nikada sasvim tamo.

Follow the music of your steps, and when the lights go out Don't whistle—sing.

wandering is intimacy's helpmate.

Who am I? And how may I become myself?

For those looking to find the thing that you've lost, the decision of where to place your handbill is one of the toughest you'll ever make in life.

Factio vestri aevum, non vestri calceus amplitudo. And

NEXT EXIT, and know I was home. Shit, I missed that sign. And what are cities really, besides signs and arbitrary boundaries?

I missed my father driving us back from the Pomona State Fair, elbowing me awake, the Dodger postgame on the radio as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes just in time to see that sign, DICKENS-NEXT EXIT, and know I was home. Shit, I missed that sign. And what are cities really, besides signs and arbitrary boundaries?

Just like mountain climbing and going to war, then, raising children is an activity that has an uncertain connection to pleasure but has the potential to enhance meaning and

Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveler belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly over periods of years, from one part of the earth to another. Indeed, he would have found it difficult to tell, among the many places he had lived, precisely where it was he had felt most at home.

Whenever he was en route from one place to another, he was able to look at his life with a little more objectivity than usual. it was often on trpis that he thought most clearly, and made the decisions that he could not reach when he was stationary.

arriving from Scotland, she had cried herself

He must become an apprentice to ordinary life.

The poem is lonely. It is lonely and enroute. — from "The Meridian

Encréspate, ola! ¡Pez, atrévete a salir! Donde hay agua se puede vivir otra vez, otra vez invocar al mundo al cantar a coro con la muerte, otra vez gritar desde el desfiladero: mirad, estamos al abrigo, mirad, la tierra era nuestra, mirad, ¡cómo cortamos el camino a la estrella!

In each chapter of this book, I'll be peeling back a very thin layer of that onion (hopefully without the tears).