Quotes About Trails

The AT is no longer the longest hiking trail—the Pacific Crest and Continental Divide trails, both out West, are slightly longer—but it will always be the first and greatest. It has a lot of friends. It deserves them.

smoke came streaking upward. Then other threads of white began just outside the landing grid. They rushed after the first. The original rockets seemed to dodge. Others came up. There was an intricate pattern formed by the smoke trails of rockets rising and other rockets following, and some trails

A man is only as good as his dogs when he is on the trails of Alaska…and a dog is only as good as his feet," a well-traveled dog driver once said.

When you stir your rice pudding, Septimus, the spoonful of jam spreads itself round making red trails like the picture of a meteor in my astronomical atlas. But if you stir backwards, the jam will not come together again. Indeed, the pudding does not notice and continues to turn pink just as before. Do you think this is odd?

When you stir your rice pudding, Septimus, the spoonful of jam spreads itself round making red trails like the picture of a meteor in my astronomical atlas. But if you stir backward, the jam will not come together again. Indeed, the pudding does not notice and continues to turn pink just as before. Do you think this is odd?

Trails are like that: you're floating along in a Shakespearean Arden paradise and expect to see nymphs and flute boys, then suddenly you're struggling in a hot broiling sun of hell in dust and nettles and poison oak…just like life.

We arrived at Council Bluffs at dawn; I looked out. All winter I'd been reading of the great wagon parties that held council there before hitting the Oregon and Santa Fe trails; and of course now it was only cute suburban cottages of one damn kind and another

If a satellite in space ever mapped the myriad of lone tracks and trails across Mongolia, it would resemble a plate of spaghetti dropped on the floor.

Only the ones whose hearts have been conquered by LOVE know the secret language of the eyes. Leave trails of love today, perhaps others might be brave enough to follow

Every trail, however erratic and circuitous, is a kind of life-line, a trajectory of growth. 6 This image of life as a trail or path is ubiquitous among peoples whose existential orientations are founded in the practices of hunting and gathering, and in the modes of environmental perception these entail. Persons are identified and characterised not by the substantive attributes they carry into the life process, but by the kinds of paths they leave.

This may seem an odd idea to us, but only because 40 we think of walking as the spatiotemporal displacement of already completed beings from 1 one point to another, rather than as the movement of their substantive formation within 2 an environment. Both plants and people, we could say, 'issue forth' along lines of growth, 3 and both exist as the sum of their trails

You were chased here by darkness. Listen to the curve of the hills, the guttering voice. The way to anywhere leads through humiliation. There are only animal trails.

Fur trade's damn near gone; pilgrims pourin' in over the trails me and all the others opened up. Hate to see it. Why, I seen five white people just last month. Five! Gettin' so's a body can't even be alone no more.

People have asked me about the loneliness out on the race. But the race is when you finally have some social contact after a long winter of training alone on mostly empty trails. On the race you meet people at checkpoints, and you mix it up with other drivers, people from all walks of life who are bound together once a year by their miseries on the Iditarod Trail.

Life... is not simply a series of exciting new ventures. The future is not always a whole new ball game. There tends to be unfinished business. One trails all sorts of things around with one, things that simply won't be got rid of.

Strangely it came to Gale then that he was glad. Yaqui had returned to his own — the great spaces, the desolation, the solitude — to the trails he had trodden when a child, trails haunted now by ghosts of his people, and ever by his gods. Gale realized that in the Yaqui he had known the spirit of the desert, that this spirit had claimed all which was wild and primitive in him.

Growing up in the Edgemoor neighborhood of Bellingham, Maggie and her brothers and sisters had explored the trails of Chuckanut Mountain and played along the shores of Bellingham Bay. The quiet neighborhood offered views of both the San Juans and the Canadian mountains. It was also situated next to Fairhaven, where you could browse through unique shops and galleries, or eat at restaurants where the waiters could always tell you about the freshest catch and where it had been brought from.

Beneath that, she'd added: For Avery, Because you are the one to dream new dreams and blaze new trails. May the dragonflies take you to places beyond your imaginings.

Trails are used by God to teach you humility and dependence on His grace rather than your own strength.

Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Some trails are happy ones, Others are blue. It's the way you ride the trail that counts, Here's a happy one for you.

It was a careworn face. But most of the lines, if followed back like a trail, would lead to happiness. To the faces a face made when laughing or smiling, or sitting quietly enjoying the day. Though some of those lines led elsewhere. Into a wilderness, into the wild. Where terrible things had happened. Some of the lines of his face led to events inhuman and abominable. To horrific sights. To unspeakable acts. Some of them his. The lines of his face were the longitude and latitude of his life.

As you travel around Slovenia, Think of the tales the hills could tell you. Share the awe of natural wonder; Tread the trails, but as you wander Honor the age-old endeavors to be Literate, informed, democratic and free.

There are many trails in this life, but the one that matters most, few men are able to walk … even Comanche men. It is the trail of a true human being. I think you are on this trail. It is a good thing for me to see. It is good for my heart.

Maybe she'd be better suited to a glittering palace, to a great and terrible queen whose eyes are as pale as diamonds, who drinks bloodred wine, and trails a cloak of dark glamour.