Quotes About Wandering

Aaron stared down at his pad of paper, unsure. He said, "So what would be the best word for you? Vagrant?" Reacher said, "Itinerant. Distributed. Transient. Episodic.

i didn't fall in love of course it's never up to you but she was walking back and forth and i was passing through

Dinted dimpled wimpled--his mind wandered down echoing corridors of assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the point. He was enamoured with the beauty of words.

Nous sommes un cimetière à la dérive.

Not all those that wonder are lost.

My real self wanders elsewhere, far away, wanders on and on invisibly and has nothing to do with my life.

I have been a wanderer among distant fields. I have sailed down mighty rivers.

The trouble with the lost generation is that it didn't get lost enough.

I'm okay with roaming around the world in my bunk for days on end. Maybe every third day I'll get a shower or stumble out at dawn and realize I'm in a field in Poland. I like that kind of life.

I am always the better for open-air breathing, and was certainly meant for the wandering life of the Indian.

A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.

Oh, my home is not my own – I lament and rue. Answer, stranger yet unknown, I am seeking you!

We never quite learned to part, -We wander slowly side by side. Outside it's starting to get dark, I'm silent, - you're preoccupied. We'll enter a church and we'll see Baptisms, marriages, mass. A minute later, we'll leave… Why is everything different with us? Or we'll sit on the trampled snow In a dark cemetery and sigh, With a stick in your hand, you'll draw A palace for just you and I.

The first ray -- as the blessing of the Lord -- Across the face of the beloved did creep, Who, sleeping, went a little pale, And then again more tightly went to sleep. It seemed that warmth of ray of sun Appeared to him just like a kiss. And long with these my lips I have not touched The tan strong shoulder or the dear lips. And now, the deceased spirits in my long Disconsolate wandering along the way, I am now flying toward him as a song And I caress him with a morning ray.

I didn't write. I just wandered about.' Martha Gelhorn, novelist and journalist

If the soul cannot find its jacket. it is condemned to an eternity of wandering--naked and alone

Moon girls, where did you go?

An homecoming that striveth ever more And cometh to no home.

But Dick had come away for his soul's sake, and he began thinking about that. He had lost himself--he could not tell the hour when, or the day or the week, the month or the year.

With people like us our home is where we are not.

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

Everything I sought in life I abandoned for the sake of the search. I'm like one who absentmindedly looks for he doesn't know what, having forgotten it in his dreaming as the search got under way.

Oh, the continual drunken diversity of flights and departures! Eternal soul of navigators and their navigations!

Andei sozinho na praia Andei na praia a pensar No jeito da tua saia Quando lá estiveste a andar.