Quotes About Journey

It also occurred to him that throughout history, humankind has told two stories: the story of a lost ship sailing the Mediterranean seas in quest of a beloved isle, and the story of a god who allows himself to be crucified on Golgotha.

There is a river whose waters give immortality; somewhere there must be another river whose waters take it away. The number of rivers is not infinite; an immortal traveler wandering the world will someday have drunk from them all.

There is a labyrinth which is a straight line.

There is a Talmudic legend about three men who go in search of God. One became insane, the other died, and the third met himself.

My name is someone & anyone. I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn't expect to arrive.

Existe un río cuyas aguas dan la inmortalidad; en alguna región habrá otro río cuyas aguas la borren. El número no es infinito; un viajero inmortal que recorra el mundo acabará, algún día, por haber bebido de todos.

Now that I possess the secret, I could tell it in a hundred different and even contradictory ways. I don't know how to tell you this, but the secret is beautiful, and science, our science, seems mere frivolity to me now... And anyway, the secret is not as important as the paths that led me to it. Each person has to walk those paths himself.

In my own case, the process is more or less unvarying. I begin with the glimpse of a form, a kind of remote island, which will eventually be a story or a poem. I see the end and I see the beginning, but not what is in between. That is gradually revealed to me, when the stars or chance are propitious. More than once, I have had to retrace my steps by way of the shadows.

I am not certain whether I ever believed in the City of the Immortals; I think the task of finding it was enough for me.

we are like the wizard who weaves a labyrinth and is forced to wander through it till the end of his days

Algo de sacerdote había en él y también de marino.

Un hombre se confunde, gradualmente, con la firma de su destino; un hombre es, a la larga, sus circunstancias.

Every so many years, he went to England to visit—judging by the photographs he showed us—a sundial and some oak trees.

La soledad era perfecta y tal vez hostil, y Dahlmann pudo sospechar que viajaba al pasado y no sólo al Sur.

Voiko se kuolla? Kaikella, mikä kuolee, on ollut jonkinlainen päämäärä, jonkinlainen työ, joka on raastanut sen rikki-

En busca de la tarde fui apurando en vano las calles. Ya estaban los zaguanes entorpecidos de sombra.

The goal is oblivion. I have arrived early. from 15 Coins

Like all men of the Library, in my younger days I traveled; I have journeyed in quest of a book, perhaps the catalog of catalogs. Now that my eyes can hardly make out what I myself have written, I am preparing to die, a few leagues from the hexagon where I was born. When I am dead, compassionate hands will throw me over the railing; my tomb will be the unfathomable air, my body will sink for ages, and I will decay and dissolve in the wind engendered by my fall, which shall be infinite.

Basta caminar algún trecho por la implacable rigidez que los espejos del pasado nos abren, para sentirnos forasteros y azorarnos cándidamente de nuestras jornadas antiguas. No hay en ellas comunidad de intenciones, ni un mismo viento que las empuja.

yo sentía que el mundo es un laberinto, del cual era imposible huir, pues todos los caminos, aunque fingieran ir al norte o al sur, iban realmente a Roma

If an eternal traveler should journey in any direction, he would find after untold centuries that the same volumes are repeated in the same disorder-which, repeated, becomes order: the Order. My solitude is cheered by that elegant hope.

la tarea que emprendo es ilimitada y ha de acompañarme hasta el fin, no menos misteriosa que el universo y que yo, el aprendiz.

No estoy seguro de que yo exista, en realidad. Soy todos los autores que he leído, toda la gente que he conocido, todas las mujeres que he amado. Todas las ciudades que he visitado, todos mis antepasados...».

A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that that patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.