Quotes About Wanderlust

Forse la percezione del mondo non dipende dai luoghi, ma dall'andatura. Se vai lento, ovunque tu sia nella fascia temperata del Globo, le tue notti si popoleranno di grilli, belati, fumo di legno, erbe aromatiche, stelle. D'inverno ti addormenterai circondato di luce lunare fredda, odore di lana infeltrita e letame, tè bollenti e sogni caldi, quelli dove le persone hanno odore e sapore. In una parola, la vita.

Perché sono venuto qui? Me lo chiedo a ogni partenza, come se fosse stato l'ordine supremo di uno zar, e non la mia personale volontà, a spingermi lontano.

Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey.

I don't know why it is that I have always been happier thinking of somewhere I have been or wanted to go, than where I am at the time. I find it difficult to be happy in the present.

Rising up into the air, they took to the sky and flew. From west and beyond west, into the wind and through it, they came past countless moons and suns. One laughed and briefly wore a scarf of raindrops in her hair, and then with wicked feet she kicked a cloud and caused rain to swamp a boat.

As Herman Melville wrote in Moby Dick, I had "an everlasting itch for things remote.

There really is no downside to travel, save a little jet lag and a dented bank account. A small price to pay for a million-dollar experience.

Es posible cultivar sueños del Norte y sueños de Sur, de Occidente y de Oriente. Lo inevitable, al parecer, es no querer estar donde se está.

the feeling of being lost in time and geography with months and years hazily sparkling ahead in a prospect of inconjecturable magic

the Zoltán utca and picked up a

J'ai toujours cru que certains endroits sont des aimants et que vous êtes attirés vers eux si vous marchez dans leurs parages.

Siempre he creído que hay lugares que son imanes y te atraen si pasas por las inmediaciones. Y eso de forma imperceptible, sin que te lo malicies siquiera. Basta con una calle en cuesta, con una acera al sol, o con una acera a la sombra. O con un chaparrón. Y te llevan a ese lugar, al punto preciso en el que debías encallar.

But I'm still thinking about being born on a spaceship, an honest to badness spaceship. Growing up while flying along the stars, able to go wherever you wanted, not stuck on some hateful planet which clearly don't want you. You could go anywhere. If one place didn't suit, you'd find another. Full freedom in all direkshuns. Could there possibly be anything cooler in the whole world than that?

We were as Hansel and Gretel and we ventured out into the black forest of the world.

I could feel the gravitational pull of home, which when I'm home too long becomes the gravitational pull of somewhere else.

Holding onto the naive belief that travel will open.

Time to travel, to acquiesce to fate.

My Morocco. I followed whatever train I wanted. I wrote without writing—of genies and hustlers and mythic travelers, my vagabondia. Then I would walk back home, happily

I should get out of here, I am thinking, out of the city. But where would I go that I would not drag my seemingly incurable lethargy along with me,

I followed whatever train I wanted. I wrote without writing—of genies and hustlers and mythic travelers, my vagabondia. Then I would walk back home, happily satisfied, and resume my daily tasks.

The café I'll never realize, the cafés I'll never know.

I should get out of here, I am thinking, out of the city. But where would I go that I would not drag my seemingly incurable lethargy along with me, like the worn canvas sack of an angst-driven teenage hockey player?

It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not.

In other words: It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not. Or, more bluntly: Wherever I am not is the place where I am myself. Or else, taking the bull by the horns: Anywhere out of the world.