Quotes About Wandering

Silence has sometimes a remarkable power of showing itself as the disembodied soul of feeling wandering without its carcase, and it is then more impressive than speech. In the same way, to say a little is often to tell more than to say a great deal.

Du gehst und gehst … du wirst von solchem Gange niemals zu rechter Zeit nach Hause zurückkehren, denn du bist der Zeit und sie ist dir abhanden gekommen.

Before long, Maxine finds herself wandering around clicking on everything, faces, litter on the floor, labels on bottles behind the bar, after a while interested not so much in where she might get to than the texture of the search itself.

The road always stretches endlessly ahead and behind us, so that we are out of time as well as out of place.

The three of us spend much of our week together at art museums and botanic gardens and other tourist attractions. We are drawn to these places of silent staring and confused, enervated wandering because they make us seem and feel less like freaks as we stare in speechless shock at one another.

Détaché de ses amarres, son cœur flottait à la dérive dans la ciel.

I wandered for many years, so long that I forgot that I possessed a soul.48 Where were you all this time? Which Beyond sheltered you and gave you sanctuary? Oh, that you must speak through me, that my speech and I are your symbol and expression! How should I decipher you?

The loneliness pervading me was physical, like a voyager who has grown weary after years of wandering and now seeks the road home.

Travelling is like a talent, like whistling or dancing. And some people have it.

Do you do that a lot? Move on?" "Maybe. But only because I travel a lot." She taps out a beat on the steering wheel, audible only to herself. "Or maybe you travel a lot because it lets you move on.

So quiet are the green woods Of our homeland, The crystalline wave Dying away by the ruined wall, And we wept in sleep; Wandering with timid steps Down past the thorny thicket, Singers in summer's eve, In the sacred peace Of the far resplendent vineyard; Shadows now in the cool womb Of night, grief-stricken eagles. As gently does a moonlit beam close The scarlet scars of melancholy.

I see him as a god from elsewhere who has lost his way . . .

In the empty expanses of space, the wandering traders need men like myself to care for the spiritual side of a life so given over to commerce, and worldly pursuits.

a la deriva.

It's true that I feel content and curious, but sometimes I'm also frightened. Waiting on the Other Side may be total desolation, eternal wandering of the sidereal plane calling out for help over and over. No. It won't be like that. There will be light, a lot of light. My moments of uncertainty are very brief. Life pulls me back in and it's hard for me to leave it behind.

I like to sit and listen to conversations here in Nashville. Not in a weird, stalker-ish way. I wander around Tennessee and find myself in little bars just zoning in.

I've spent the better part of the last twenty-five years doing a lot of traveling.

Some people haven't got a life, I suppose. They want to be on the road all the time.

I have learned since that sometimes the things we want most are impossible for us. You may long to come home, yet wander forever.

floating away from me like a cloud on the wind.

I'm everywhere; I'm just a soul that's floating around here on earth.

You were my dock. I am just a mere ship that has drifted farther and farther into the vast water. Many docks are in range, but I have yet to anchor and tie my rope.

You can't wander around and think the wandering will call them back.

I may be lost, but I'm traveling the right way.