Quotes About Wander

Travel gives me the opportunity to walk through the sectors of cities where one can clearly see the passage of time.

One thing about tourists is that it is very easy to get away from them. Like ants they follow a trail and a few yards each side of that trail there are none.

People move around so much in the world, things get lost.

That's the place to get to—nowhere. One wants to wander away from the world's somewheres, into our own nowhere.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening...

I remembered what Thoreau had written in his journal about thinking nothing of walking eight miles to greet a tree.

I shall be obliged to wander to the right and to the left, that I may investigate and discover the truth.

When we let our minds wander, we set our brains free. Our brains are most productive when there is no demand that they be reactive.

The hero wanders. The hero suffers. The hero returns. You are that hero.

The hero wanders. The hero suffers. The hero returns.

I walked back past the stable and carriage house. The path took me cross the whole map of the world I knew. I hadn't yet seen the spinning globe in the house that showed the rest of it.

I've had intimations of this feeling of loss before, but it was a shadow passing in the peripheries, then gone. After Ann left home, I would wander into her room and catch the scent of dried prom corsages in the closet

Those who wander are not necessarily lost.

For I must wander On the deep sea bed Showering pearls on dead men Gathering shells And sweeping the shadows of passing boats With my falling hair Across the sliding sands into the mouth of hell

Sophie picked her way through the forest, stepping over tree roots, and pushing aside low-lying branches, letting them snap back behind her with reckless abandon. The sun barely squeaked through the canopy of leaves above her, and down at ground level, it felt more like dusk than midday.

You see I usually find myself among strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.

Take me for a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,My senses have been stripped,My hands can't feel to grip,My toes too numb to stepWait only for my boot heels to be wanderin'.

In a place far away from anyone or anywhere, I drifted off for a moment.

That's what love's all about, Kafka. You're the one having those wonderful feelings, but you have to go it alone as you wander through the dark. Your mind and body have to bear it all. All by yourself.

That's what we all do: endlessly take the long way around.

To err from the right path is common to mankind.

In their dreams at night, people wander around as long as they sleep; just so, they are under the power of the snake Maya, as long as their hearts are filled with ego and duality.

You wonder and you wonder until you wander out into Infinity, where - if it is to be found anywhere - Truth really exists.

When bodies spring apart, because the air Somehow condenses, wander they from truth: For then a void is formed, where none before; And, too, a void is filled which was before.