Quotes About Journey

Afrika'y? bulmak için', diye onu uyarm??t? babas?, 'önce içinde kaybolmak gerekir'.

JistÄ› právÄ› v tom tkví duch Cesty, v touze pojít svÄ›tem proto, aby pÃ…â"¢ed ním ?lovÄ›k unikl, a najít druhé lidi tam, kde nikdo není. Jak napsal Alphonse Allais: "V pustinÄ› se lidé rádi sdružují...

Le Chemin est une alchimie du temps sur l'âme.

Le pèlerinage est, avec la guerre, la plus ancienne cause du déplacement des hommes.

Nous sommes humains parce que nous avons accès à ce qui n'existe pas. Cette richesse n'est pas donnée à tous, mais ceux qui cheminent jusqu'à ce continent invisible en reviennent chargés de trésors qu'ils font partager à tous les autres.

Perché non riusciva a decidersi? Che cosa ci guadagnava a stare in mare, lontano da chi amava? Quale maledizione aveva colpito lui e tanti altri, che non trovavano il senso della vita se non lontano da ogni attracco?

That sense of some distant, unknown country from where she'd come and toward which she seemed to want to return.

My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court.

Garden season deepened. The lantern flies winked and blinked. Poppies flaunted their scarlet robes. Ants feasted in the peonies, and protected them from invaders. The pear tree blossomed. Lavender sensed her mother's presence, just past the first layer of fragrant air. In the parlor, the harp stood, silent, as before. But its silence didn't grieve Lavender. Its magic had wintered her through part of the journey that brought her to where she was now.

The Buddhists say there are 149 ways to God. I'm not looking for God, only for myself, and that is far more complicated. God has had a great deal written about Him; nothing has been written about me. God is bigger, like my mother, easier to find, even in the dark. I could be anywhere, and since I can't describe myself I can't ask for help.

I seem to have run in a great circle, and met myself again on the starting line.

The Buddhists say there are 149 ways to God. I'm not looking for God, only for myself, and that is far more complicated. God has had a great deal written about Him; nothing has been written about me. God is bigger, like my mother, easier to find, even in the dark. I could be anywhere, and since I can't describe myself I can't ask for help.

Lydia is constantly reminded that her education has no purchase here, that she has no access to the kind of information that has real currency on this journey. Among migrants, everyone knows more than she does. How do you find a coyote, make sure he's reputable, pay for your crossing, all without getting ripped off?

As Rebeca reveals what scraps of story she does have to Luca, he starts to understand that this is the one thing all migrants have in common, this is the solidarity that exists among them, though they all come from different places and different circumstances, some urban, some rural, some middle-class, some poor, some well educated, some illiterate, Salvadoran, Honduran, Guatemalan, Mexican, Indian, each of them carries some story of suffering on top of that train and into el norte beyond.

Luca feels unmoored from the boundaries of time that have always existed.

Lydia understands that it's not a disguise at all. She and Luca are actual migrants.

Only one out of three will make it to your destination alive. Will it be you?" He points at a man in his fifties with a neatly trimmed beard and a fresh T-shirt.

It's all a romantic dream now. It's over. I made my choices long ago, and this is where they've led me.

And then Luca leans close and whispers something in the coyote's ear. And the man reaches up and takes Luca in his arms, and Luca folds himself around the coyote's neck, and they embrace for a long moment, and then they turn away from each other quickly, and Luca ascends the steps. Lydia watches through the window as El Chacal lifts his pack from one of the lawn chairs, hoists his replenished water supplies, and heads back into the desert.

So we're leaving today, Papi. We are already gone. And you must be very careful and look after yourself, please. We are taking you with us in our hearts, and we will call you when we get to el norte, Papi. And we'll send for you when we have jobs, and you can come to us, and you can bring Mami and Abuela, too, and we will all be together again as it is meant to be.

If only their bodies could pass unimpeded along these highways as quickly and safely as her finger traces the route along the map.

There are twenty-three migrants here, and despair has settled into their features like a powdery dust.

Luis Alberto Urrea, Óscar Martínez, Sonia Nazario, Jennifer Clement, Aída Silva Hernández, Rafael Alarcón, Valeria Luiselli, and Reyna Grande.

La cafeína le llega al torrente sanguíneo como un sueño de otra vida.