Quotes About Journey

What you hope forIs that at some point of the pointless journey,Indoors or out, and when you least expect it,Right in the middle of your stride, like that,So neatly that you never feel a thing,The kind assassin Sleep will draw a beadAnd blow your brains out.

Young as she is, the stuff / Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy: / I wish her a lucky passage.

I was not leaving the south to forget the south, but so that some day I might understand it

Luther said that every Christian is "simul justus et peccator, comprehensor et viator"—"simultaneously righteous and sinful, a man who has reached the goal and one who reaches out toward it.

I set off, off to kill the man I love.

Sometimes you wake up from a dream. Sometimes you wake up in a dream. And sometimes, every once in a while, you wake up in someone else's dream.

Piece of Heaven?" "No, that other place I'm going to go to for thinking what I'm thinking.

After almost exactly three hours, we rolled into a small hole of a town that had one traffic light and a resturant simply marked DINER. There hadn't been any traffic on the road for over an hour, though, which was really the most important thing. We hadn't been followed. Sydney drove us to a building with a sign that read MOTEL. Apparently this town liked to stick to the basics when it came to names. I wouldn't be surprised if it was actually just called TOWN.

Where are we going?" asked Victor. "If I'm allowed to ask." I squirmed around in my seat so that I could look him in the eye. "That's what you're going to tell us. As hard as it is to believe, we didn't do all that just because we missed your pleasant company." "That is hard to believe.

Turning away, I stared at the long road winding off ahead of me. I sighed. This trip might take awhile. "Then start walking, Rose," I muttered to myself. I set off, off to kill the man I loved.

Where are you going?" he asked. "To break someone's heart," I replied.

Sometimes it's worth lingering on the journey for a while before getting to the destination." Metaphors. This was the cost of making out with an artist.

You remember our talk about purpose and meaning?" he asked me, the smile disappearing. "Well, I think this might be mine. I think this is what I was meant to do, Georgina.

Thank you for sending my imagination to a place it can never return from.

I set off, off to kill the man I loved.

The [bowling] ball flew out jerkily, sailed about four feet, hit the lane with a loud crack , and then promptly entered the gutter. Roman walked up beside me, and we silently watched the ball complete its journey. 'Are you always that rough with balls?' he asked finally. 'Most men don't complain.

I grow and I shrink. I run and I crawl. Follow my voice, though I have none at all. I never do leave here, but I travel around I float through the sky and I creep through the ground. I keep my cache in a vault although I have no wealth, Seek my decay to safeguard your health.

Keep it. I think I've got something else to help center my life." - Adrian Ivashkov

we rolled into a small hole of a town that had one traffic light and a restaurant simply marked DINER. There hadn't been any traffic on the road for over an hour, though, which was really the most important thing. We hadn't been followed. Sydney drove us to a building with a sign that read MOTEL. Apparently, this town liked to stick to the basics when it came to names. I wouldn't be surprised if it was actually just called TOWN.

Now Rose will have to go to the ends of the earth to find-and kill-the man she loves.

Adrian." I laid my hand over his an felt a warm spark of connection. He jerkedd his head toward me in astonishment. "Nothing he said could change what I think of you. I've had my mind made up about you for a longe time... and it's all good." Adrian looked away form me and down to where my hand covered his. I blushed and pulled away. "Sorry." I'd probably freaked him out. He glanced back up at me. "Best thing that's happened to me all day. Let's hit the road.

There's something tiring about an endless, unknown stretch of highway.

We'd caught a commuter flight from there to Philadelphia, and from there to Seattle and now Fairbanks. It reminded me a little of the crazy flights I'd had to take from Siberia back to the U.S. That journey had also gone via Seattle. I was starting to believe that city was a gateway to obscure places.

For Balanquans, Ariniel's star is the wayfarers' star—the star that always brings you home, no matter how lost you are. The only thing a wanderer can count on.