Quotes About Adventure

But it isn't hunger that drives millions of armed American Males to forests and hills every autumn, as the high incidence of heart failure among the hunters will prove. Somehow the hunting process has to do with masculinity, but I don't quite know how.

The Carmel is a lovely little river. It isn't very long but in its course it has everything a river should have. It ... tumbles down a while, runs through shallows, ... crackles among round boulders, wanders lazily under sycamores, spills into pools where trout live ... In the winter, it becomes a torrent, ... and in the summer it is a place for children to wade in and for fishermen to wander in.

I have many homes, some that I have not seen yet. Maybe that is why I am restless; I have not yet known all of my homes

In Spanish there is a word for which I can't find a counter word in English. It is the verb vascular, present participle vacilando. I does not mean vacillating at all. If one is vacilando, he is going somewhere but doesn't greatly care whether or not her gets there, although he has direction. . . We could choose some article almost certain not to exist there and then diligently try to find it.

Ad astra per alia porci

The party had all the best qualities of a riot and a night on the barricades.

I saw in their eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation—a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any Here. They spoke quietly of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something.

We must find him...Some harm will fall upon our friend in his craziness. We must search through the whole world until we find him.

Ain't you thinkin' what's it gonna be like when we get there? Ain't you scared it won't be nice like we thought? No, she said quickly. No, I ain't, You can't do that. I can't do that. It's too much - livin' too many lives. Up ahead they's a thousan' lives we might live, but when it comes, it'll on'y be one. If I go ahead on all of'em, it's too much.

They got to live before they can afford to die.

Your days are like pages, the chapters unread. You have to keep turning your book has no end.

My friend Jack Wagner has often, in Mexico, assumed this state of being. Let us say we wanted to walk in the streets of Mexico ity but not at random. We would choose some article almost certain not to exist there and then diligently try to find it.

A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.

Na jaren van zwoegen merken we dat we geen reis maken, maar dat de reis on maakt. Reisleiders, dienstregelingen, reserveringen, star en onvermijdelijk, doen hun uiterste best om de persoonlijkheid van de reis te slopen.

Ad astra per alia porci (to the stars on the wings of a pig)

Samuel rode lightly on top of a book and he balanced happily among ideas the way a man rides white rapids in a canoe. But Tom got into a book, crawled and groveled between the covers, tunneled like a mole among the thoughts, and came up with the book all over his face and hands.

Come along, said Joad. Pa'll be glad to see you. He always said you got too long a pecker for a preacher. He picked up his coat roll and tightened it snugly about his shoes and turtle.

I've lived in a good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate.

He climbed ecstatic mountains and floundered in the rocky darkness between the peaks.

And then I saw what I was to see so many times on the journey--a look of longing. Lord! I wish I could go.

He was proud of her wild, exploring mind.

Without travel, writing dies.

When he read his father's books, he was the first. He lived in a world shining and fresh and as uninspected as Eden on the sixth day.

Saw in their eyes something I was to see over and over in every part of the nation—a burning desire to go, to move, to get under way, anyplace, away from any here. They spoke quietly of how they wanted to go someday, to move about, free and unanchored, not toward something but away from something.