Quotes About Road

Sixty miles north of Los Angeles.

gave off an eerie radiance that stained the trees and silvered the road.

De o parte si de alta a soselei, pe portiunea acoperita cu palcuri mohorate de padure pana la linia orizontului, totul este plin cu noroi, iar pentru ca noaptea care se pogoara dizolva consistenta, absoarbe culoarea, transforma incremenirea in plutire, pietrificand tot ce misca, soseaua pare o nava ce stationeaza, leganandu-se misterios in mijlocul unui ocean de mal, mare cat o lume intreaga.

Does Bhisma care about women and their fate? Do all women have to be fierce warriors and die like men, as Rosa Luxemburg did, to earn his respect? Does he care about the mountains, behind which every day the sun rises and sets, about life on the side of the road, about the color of twilight in certain clear afternoons, so beautiful it is almost unendurable?

Portland, Oregon won't build a mile of road without a mile of bike path. You can commute there, even with that weather, all the time.

And that - he pointed ahead - is the road to Hell. That's where we're going. I have always heard it was paved with good intentions, said Simon

some twenty more miles on an old two-lane country road. Traffic was light, just a couple of pickups and a Volkswagen

You and I, being grown-up and having lost our hearts at least twice or thrice along the way, might shut our eyes and cry out: Not that way, child! But as we have said, September was Somewhat Heartless, and felt herself reasonably safe on that road. Children always do.

I could not say what creeps and whispers through the branches and down the threaded Road, but I hear it, and I am not afraid.

It is warm in Gaza. Air shimmers up from the road, and the old white stone in the buildings seems to make everything brighter, warmer. Sun, no clouds, no rain.

Just as she said this, the children heard a horse and cart coming up the road.

poetry returns to us from the depths of a wounded psyche, no longer in harmony with the world—and following this road we will meet up with Baudelaire and much of modern poetry.

On the road, I eat hamburgers every day. The team tries to get me to eat differently, but no. Burgers, burgers, burgers. I like burgers. McDonald's burgers. Wendy's burgers. Burger King burgers. There's this one place in Canada--I even look at the schedule to find out when we play there--best burger I've ever tasted. Real soft and sweet. I ate twelve of them in one night.

The fashions of the ages vary in this direction and that, but they vary for the most part from a central road which was struck out by the imagination of Greece.

The road to Hell, you say, is paved with good intentions. Charming. But actually it's paved with intriguing questions.

On the road, I learned that the media are not reality; reality is reality.

Since learning causes our brains to grow new synapses, I like to believe that the road is sharpening my mind and lengthening my life with surprise.

MY LAST HOPE IS to open up the road—literally. So far it's been overwhelmingly masculine turf. Men embody adventure, women embody hearth and home, and that has been pretty much it.

A journey - whether it's to the corner grocery or through life - is supposed to have a beginning, middle, and end, right? Well, the road is not like that at all. It's the very illogic and the juxtaposed differences of the road - combined with our search for meaning - that make travel so addictive.

When people ask me why I still have hope and energy after all these years, I always say: Because I travel... Taking to the road — by which I mean letting the road take you — changed who I thought I was. The road is messy in the way that real life is messy. It leads us out of denial and into reality, out of theory and into practice, out of caution and into action, out of statistics and into stories —in short, out of our heads and into our hearts.

I am left without answers. There are only questions I must answer for myself. What is the balance between home and the road? Hearth and horizon? Between what is and what could be?

Since learning causes our brains to grow new synapses, I like to believe that the road is sharpening

On the road, I met couples traveling in RVs and discovered that a national roving group called RV Women provided campgrounds and community. Other gatherings were massive and seasonal—most famously, the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival.

There were in fact bugs," he recalls, "But the essential difference was in the obviousness of bugs, the repeatability of bugs, and potential for fixing bugs oneself. In this environment, bugs were only temporary delays on a steady road towards excellence and stability.