Quotes About Wanderlust

When the railroad trains moaned, and river-winds blew, bringing echoes through the vale, it was as if a wild hum of voices, the dear voices of everybody he had known, were crying: Peter, Peter! Where are you going, Peter? And a big soft gust of rain came down. He put up the collar of his jacket, and bowed his head, and hurried along.

The road must eventually lead to the whole world. Ain't nowhere else it can go - right?

He knew the road would get more interesting, especially ahead, always ahead.

You boys going to get somewhere, or just going? We didn't understand his question, and it was a damned good question.

Everything was everlastingly loose and responsive, it was all everywhere beyond the truth, beyond emptyspace blue. The mountains are mighty patient, Buddha-man, I said out loud, and took a drink.

He doesn't need any money , all he needs is his rucksack with those little plastic bags of dried food and a good pair of shoes and off he goes and enjoys the privileges of a millionaire in surroundings like this.

All that hitchhikin All that railroadin All that comin back to America

a traveling epic Hunkey, crossing and recrossing the country every year, south in the winter and north in the summer and only because he has no place he can stay in without getting tired of it and because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, and keep rolling under the stars

Did you ever stand on a street corner in American at five o'clock in the morning? I did.

I was going to grow up to walk in sleet in fields...

Sal, straight, no matter where I live, my trunk's always sticking out from under the bed, I'm ready to leave or get thrown out. I've decided to leave everything out of my hands. You've seen me try and break my ass to make it and you know that it doesn't matter and we know time — how to slow it up and walk and dig and just old-fashioned spade kicks, what other kicks are there? We know.

I want to be like him. He's never hung-up, he goes every direction, he lets it all out, he knows time, he has nothing to do but rock back and forth. Man, he's the end! You see, if you go like him all the time you'll finally get it.

There is nowhere to go but everywhere.

besides which Lucille would never understand me because I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop.

And since I'm well and on the bum again & aint got nothing else to do, but roam, long-faced, the real America, with my unreal heart, here I am eager and ready.

I wanta swim in rivers and drink goatmilk and talk with priests and just read Chinese books and amble around the valleys talking to farmers and their children.

We had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.

At least I had frost on my nose, boots on my feet, and protest in my mouth.

I like too many things and get confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop.

I remember him standing under a streetlamp. 'Just as we passed that other lamp I was going to tell you a further thing, Sal, but now I am parenthetically continuing with a new thought and by the time we reach the next I'll return to the original subject, agreed?' I certainly agreed.

I went off with him for no reason.

the whole world opened up before me because I had no dreams

This can't go on all the time- all this franticness and jumping around. We've got to go someplace, find something.

I've got my full rucksack pack and it's spring, I'm going to go Southwest to the dry land, to the long lone land of Texas and Chihuahua and the gay streets of Mexico night, music coming out of doors, girls, wine, weed, wild hats, viva! What does it matter? Like the ants that have nothing to do but dig all day, I have nothing to do but what I want and be kind and remain nevertheless uninfluenced by imaginary judgments and pray for the light.