Quotes About Wandering

Like an abandoned dog who cannot find a smell or a track and roams along the roads, with no road, like the child who in a night of the fair gets lost among the crowd, and the air is dusty, and the candles fluttering,--astounded, his heart weighed down by music and by pain; that's how I am, drunk, sad by nature, a mad and lunar guitarist, a poet, and an ordinary man lost in dreams, searching constantly for God among the mists.

Los caminitos blancos se cruzan y se alejan, buscando los dispersos caseríos del valle y de la sierra. Caminos de los campos... ¡Ay, ya no puedo caminar con ella!

XXIX Traveler, there is no path. The path is made by walking. Traveller, the path is your tracks And nothing more. Traveller, there is no path The path is made by walking. By walking you make a path And turning, you look back At a way you will never tread again Traveller, there is no road Only wakes in the sea.

When I do not walk in the clouds I walk as though I were lost.

Of course, not all journeys are undertaken for sacred purposes. Some people may undertake journeys for the simplest reason of all: curiosity. They wish to see what there is to see just beyond the next hill, or over the far river, or at the end of the long trail leading towards dawn....

I travel quite a bit.

This tremendous event is still on its way, still wandering; it has not yet reached the ears of men. Lightning and thunder require time; the light on the stars requires time; deeds though done, still require time to be seen and heard. This deed is still more distant from them than the most distant stars - and yet they have done it themselves.

Where are we headed? Are we not endlessly plunging —backwards, sideways, forwards, in all directions? Is there an up and a down anymore? Do we not wander as if through an endless nothingness? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Hasn't it grown colder?

I am a wanderer and mountain-climber, said he to his heart, I love not the plains, and it seemeth I cannot long sit still. And whatever may still overtake me as fate and experience—a wandering will be therein, and a mountain-climbing: in the end one experienceth only oneself.

A sedentary life is the real sin against the Holy Spirit. Only those thoughts that come by walking have any value.

Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.

I spent my thirties living out of boxes and moving every six months to a year. It was my cloud period: I just wandered like a cloud for ten years, following the food supply. I was a hunter, gatherer, an academic migrant.

Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find the perfumes thou dost bring?

They change their skies above them,But not their hearts that roam.

I have come to believe that the best kind of walk, or journey, is the one in which you have no particular destination when you set out.

The best kind of walk, and this applies to the plains as well as to the hills, is the one in which you have no particular destination when you set out. 'Where

He walks slowly along beneath the dripping pine trees, staring straight ahead of him, like someone who has no idea where he is going, and his red bag is the only spot of bright colour in the driving rain.

Where I've been is places, and what I've seen is things, and there've been times I've run off from seeing them, off to other places and things. I keep moving, me and this guitar with the silver strings slung behind my shoulder. Sometimes I've got food with me, and an extra shirt maybe, but most times just the guitar, and trust to God for what I need else.

Se que las almas de los muertos muchas veces permanecen vagando por tal o cual lugar para cumplir tal o cual objetivo

In my dreams of this city I am always lost.

But my dreaming self refuses to be consoled. It continues to wander, aimless, homeless, alone. It cannot be convinced of its safety by any evidence drawn from my waking life.

We could park the van and walk to town, find cheapest bottle of wine that we could find. And talk about the road behind, how getting lost is not a waste of time.

One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time.

Perhaps we are the world's great nomads, if only in our minds.