Quotes About Movement

I hoped they couldn't run very fast with those stubby little legs and flippers, but they waddled along pretty well.

You need to be prepared to move." "Why?" I sat up and looked out the windshield, straight into a raging sandstorm. "Oh…

Life was all just coming and going, wasn't it? And then eventually it was just going.

Lily was a Fabian, a society suffragette who risked nothing

I always feel so sorry for women who don't like to walk; they miss so much - so many rare little glimpses of life; and we women learn so little of life on the whole.

However, I don't mind walking. I always feel so sorry for women who don't like to walk; they miss so much—so many rare little glimpses of life; and we women learn so little of life on the whole.

They were always on the move.But in truth said bull we are all going nowhere

But in truth,' said Bull, 'we are going nowhere. That my friend, is the irony of our constant movement.

I once had a teacher called Mrs McGregor who said that the world was turning very slowly on its axis. It is moving infinitesimally, said Mrs McGregor. Infinitesimally. [...] But here is the thing: it did not feel to me like the earth was moving infinitesimally. It felt like it was hurtling and jerking its way through a lonely darkness. To my way of thinking, you never knew when the earth was going to lurch and go somewhere entirely unexpected. There was nothing infinitesimal about it.

I could see dust motes dancing around joyfully in the air. What do dust motes have to be so happy about?

First and foremost, any great empire thrives on movement: stable lines of supply, of trade, of information. This movement must be unobstructed for officials on imperial business, and monitored and restricted for others on a scale that varied depending on the necessity of these functions to imperial strength and the likelihood of such restrictions causing dangerous levels of dissent.

the long train ride was like traveling through limbo. You weren't anywhere when you were on a train, she decided. You weren't where you had been, and you weren't yet where you were going. You were nowhere. It might be beautiful outside the window-and it was, she had sense enough to realize that-but it wasn't anywhere to her, just a scene passing by that was framed by the train window. (p160)

Corría como si para ella fuera algo natural. Recordó el vuelo de los patos salvajes en otoño. Igual de fluido y uniforme. Le vino a la cabeza la palabra «hermosa» pero la rechazó y apresuró el paso hacia casa.

She ran as though it was her nature. It reminded him of the flight of wild ducks in the autumn.

reassigned to Zhenjiang

To be an American is to move on, as if we could outrun change. To attach oneself to place is to surrender to it, and suffer with it.

Solvitur Ambulando It is solved by walking

I immediately understood that all our training—the rehearsal of thoughts and actions, the merging of individual identities into a coordinated and interdependent force—was done in anticipation of this very moment, to stanch the fundamental impulse to flee from such terror. We smelled that death—perhaps the death of civilization—and we kept moving toward it, thereby becoming something more and less than human.

Oftentimes, what causes old people to become poor walkers is poor walking. One must bend one's knees. One must lift one's feet up. One must be unceasing. One mustn't shuffle.

I walked along a highway. I was looking for a place to sit down, for some grass I could walk in, for a wood I could explore. I walked for hours. All land on both sides of the highway, cultivated and wild, was private. I had to keep walking on the highway. I thought that people today when they move move only by car, train, boat, or plane and so move only on roads. They perceive only the roads, the map, the prison. I think it's becoming harder to get off the roads.

The danger isn't the river's speed, friend, but its slowness.

The other cars had to pass noisily around us, but there was no anti-parking sign. Through the windshield, we could see another under-bridge area in front of us, and the cars that passed us were forming a line to enter it.

the evening field, hovering against the sky, each creature within it busily changing position, anxious to find a better one, but never straying beyond the boundary of the shape they made together.

As I turned around, I felt another brushing sensation, this one not nearly as intense but even odder. My tail. It was off to the side and I couldn't really get a good look at it. So how could I move--? My tail swung. Okay, that was easy. I took a closer look. It was thick and over half the length of my body. When I thought of moving it, it moved. Very convenient.