Quotes About Journey

Odysseus had twenty years to shed his battle skin. My grandfather left the battlefield in France and rode home in a ship that crawled across the ocean slowly so he could catch his breath. I get on a plane in hell and get off, hours later, at home.

I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world.

It doesn't matter where I go, I don't want to be there. And then I get to the next place, and I don't want to be there either.

This is not our fight,' the old man said. 'British or American, that is not the choice. You must choose your own side, find your road through the valley of darkness that will lead you to the river Jordan.

Trying to figure out what you want to do, who you want to be, is messy as hell; at best anyone can hope for is to figure out the next step.

I am an iceberg drifting towards the edge of the map

They were coming, on wings from far away, all the pictures and voices, smells, tastes, all the everything from the past was flying toward me as fast as it could.

Ci tenevamo per mano mentre percorrevamo il sentiero di pan di zenzero dentro la foresta, col sangue che ci gocciolava dalle dita.

We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, and when she tried to leave, I pulled her back into the snow because I was afraid to be alone.

I unscrewed the top of my head and rinsed out my brainpan with salt water from the North Sea and so began my next life

My timing is perfect, and I wind up in a traffic jam. The cars around me are driven by fat cows and bellowing bulls. We roll along, six mph. I can run faster than this. We brake. They chew their cud and moo into their phones until the herd shifts gears and rolls forward again.

You've fallen in love with me. You want to have my babies. We'll get a team of horses and a covered wagon and we'll journey to South America and raise goats.

Guidando verso casa sono quasi una ragazza vera.

Some people grow up knowing what they want to do; they color inside the lines, study at the right school, check off the boxes, and in the end they are handed the grown-up life they've dreamed of. That's mostly bullshit, for the record. Trying to figure out what you want to do, who you want to be, is messy as hell; the best anyone can hope for is to figure out the next step.

entrance of the park," I say.

HOW does a music lover transform into an actual music maker? What

they turned up Regent Street, braced together against the sway of the pavement. [The Language of Bees, chapter 19]

Novels are written—as life is lived—One Day At A Time.

It took a while to tell but it hadn't taken all that long to live;

What does it all

One begins a journey with an eye on one's destination. Somewhere along the way, one learns (if one's lucky) that it's the journey itself that's important. One buys a stamp album with the intention of filling it—but it is in moving toward this goal that satisfaction lies, not in attaining it.

He loved the desert because there the wind blew out one's footsteps like candle flames.

Her efforts to achieve herself had led her always towards, and not away from him.

Basle, Zurich, Baden, Paris — the flickering of steel rails over the arterial systems of Europe's body: steel ganglia meeting and dividing away across mountains and valleys.