Quotes About Meandering

Blogs are nothing more than a personal meandering diary for public consumption - a narcissist's dream. So you can imagine when bloggers take themselves - and their blogs - seriously, it's super annoying.

Through the familiar orbit east of Reno, the brothels and wrecking yards, the big puffing power plant and its cat's cradle of coils and springs and fencing, an occasional freight train and the meandering and summer-shallow Truckee River, railroad tracks and river escorting me to Fernley, where they both cut north.

I still think the revolution is to make the world safe for poetry, meandering, for the frail and vulnerable, the rare and obscure, the impractical and local and small.

The river was nowhere and everywhere, for he could not decide which of a hundred green lagoons offered the most pleasant and least speedy path to the Gulf. So he traveled them all, and so did we. He divided and rejoined, he twisted and turned, he meandered in awesome jungles, he all but ran in circles, he dallied with lovely groves, he got lost and was glad of it, and so were we. For the last word in procrastination, go travel with a river reluctant to lose his freedom in the sea.

useless characters, pointless details, frequent digressions regarding his own unremarkable, woeful self...

Rosenstein had never been in the Oval Office or met Trump before this day, and he received a fast introduction to the president's conversational style—the meandering subject matter, the mumbled sentence fragments, the persistent aggression.

The middle place. Not death. Not life. A limbo state of existence filled with the hours of turning the wheels. Eating to not feel hungry. Sleeping to not feel tired. Waking to not feel asleep. The middle place that exists between breaths, in that pause, that slight breathlessness before an exhale and an inhale. Between the crest and the valley. Where the path always meanders cliffside.

The middle place. Not death. Not life. A limbo state of existence filled with the hours of turning the wheels. Eating to not feel hungry. Sleeping to not feel tired. Waking to not feel asleep. The middle place that exists between breaths, in that pause, the slight breathlessness before an exhale and an inhale. Between the crest and the valley. Where the path always meanders cliffside.

I love meandering down the streets of Tuscany and the food tastes like it's been kissed by the sun.

A rival politician once called Harding's verbiage "an army of pompous phrases moving over the landscape in search of an idea. Sometimes these meandering words would actually capture a straggling thought and bear it triumphantly, a prisoner in their midst, until it died of servitude.

The road meandering around the hill bore the signs of intensive use. For it was used, and used intensively.

It's more like a corkscrew than a path!

I never knew modelling was what I wanted to do. I was just meandering through life having fun, having a laugh with my friends.

I really think I ambled through a lot of my life, or ambled from one thing to the other.

The best kind of walk, and this applies to the plains as well as to the hills, is the one in which you have no particular destination when you set out.

The best kind of walk, and this applies to the plains as well as to the hills, is the one in which you have no particular destination when you set out. 'Where

I planned my death carefully, unlike my life, which meandered along from one thing to another, despite my feeble attempts to control it.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion.

Quite the contrary, it was an act of disdain for the complicated interchange known as conversation: for its vagaries, lost and meandering trails, half-understandings, and mysterious clarities. For the meaning of a pun is clear, all too clear. It demands a leap in understanding, to the exact place the punner demands.

Time seemed to have stretched and become meaningless anyway, its passage blurred by endless drinks and meandering conversations.

I begin my days by practicing piano, which I do badly but with ardor. Then I read for a while. I write until I'm too hungry to keep writing and then after lunch I spend some time in my garden before writing again. I want to also study French, but I rarely do. As I meander my way through one of these days, it occurs to me that my work life resembles the life of an eighteenth-century aristocrat.

Those of my critics who declare I have no feeling for form will be filled with delight over the meandering formlessness of these notes.

There wasn't a woman alive who could go from point A to B without stopping at C, D, X, and 12 along the way.

The human race seems to love nothing more than a long detour.