Quotes About Wanderlust

And I was sitting on my verandah believing they were so remarkable and free, just because they never spoke a word and were always on the move. They hadn't a single word to say and nowhere to go...

Det är underligt med vägar och floder, funderade Sniff, man ser dem gå förbi och får en hemsk lust att vara nån annanstans. Att följa med och se var de slutar ...

Dlaczego nie pozwolÄ… mi nigdy zachowa? moich wspomnieÅ" o wÄ™drówkach tylko dla siebie? Czy nie mogÄ… zrozumie?, ?e gadaniem niszczÄ… wszystko? JeÅ›li im opowiadam, to potem nic nie zostaje. PamiÄ™tam tylko swoje wÅ'asne opowiadanie, kiedy staram siÄ™ przypomnie? sobie, jak byÅ'o.

The very last house stood all by itself under a dark green wall of fir-trees, and here the wild country really began. Snufkin walked faster and faster straight into the forst. Then the door of the last house opened a chink and a very old voice cried: 'Where are you off to?' 'I don't know,' Snufkin replied. The door shut again and Snufkin entered his forest, with a hundred miles of silence ahead of him.

But Snufkin took out his mouth-organ and played his gayest adventure-song (not just-the-right-sized adventure, but a terrific one) about rescues and surprises and sunshine.

It's funny about paths and rivers," he mused. "You see them go by, and suddenly you feel upset and want to be somewhere else--wherever the path or the river is going, perhaps.

Since my addiction to motion is what feeds my writing, the main purpose of travel for me is to get lost.

I knew then that I wanted to go home, but I had no home to go to--and that is what adventures are all about.

It's better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear.

felt like heading off the edge of the world. For most of the trip, we couldn't see any land in any direction — maybe an island in the distance,

There is nothing that interests me more than travel, I declare; and if I had had my health, I should have been a great traveller, a second–a second– St Paul? No, no. A second Lady Mary Wortley Montagu.

Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveler, belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly, over periods of years, from one part of the earth to another.

She felt the curious flattening of inquiring spirit the traveller suffers from, knowing himself without occupation or investment in the fortunes of a strange city.

You think of travellers as bold, but our guilty secret is that travel is one of the laziest ways on earth of passing the time.

Ever since childhood, when I lived within earshot of the Boston and Maine, I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it. Those whistles sing bewitchment: railways are irresistible bazaars... Anything is possible on a train...

Solitary people make the best travellers

I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it.

The Swahili word safari means journey, it has nothing to do with animals, someone 'on safari' is just away and unobtainable and out of touch.

To travel unconnected, away from anyone's gaze or reach, is bliss

All places, no matter where, no matter what, are worth visiting.

If I read enough about one country I sometimes found that the intensity of the reading removed by desire to travel there.

To travel unconnected, away from anyone's gaze or reach, is a bliss.

I decided that travel was flight and pursuit in equal parts

And yet on that bench at Jacobacci, I was glad I had left everyone else behind. Although this was a town with a main street and a railway station, and people with dogs and electric lights it was near enough to the end of the earth to give me the impression that I was a solitary explorer in a strange land. That illusion (which was an illusion in the South Pole and at the headwaters of the Nile) was enough of a satisfaction to me to make me want to go forward.