Quotes About Wandering

What happens to a wanderer?" Moses asked Neph. "Does he ever come home?" And Neph answered ruefully that wanderers were those who sought their home – not those who left it. The cryptic intent was not lost on Moses, and when Neph asked him how he felt, he replied, "I am a stranger here.

Some people say I'm a no count, others say I'm no good But I'm just a natural born travelin' man Doin' what I think I should, oh yeah Doin' what I think I should.

Having no destination, I am never lost.

we're lost where the mind can't find us utterly lost

Holzwege são, em alemão, os caminhos na floresta abertos pelos lenhadores para poder transportar os troncos depois do corte: por esses caminhos não se vai para lugar algum, só se entra na floresta até chegar a um ponto de onde só dá para voltar. Deveríamos todos percorrer com alegria, na nossa cultura e no nosso pensamento, caminhos que não precisam ir a lugar nenhum, que apenas nos dão acesso a alguns buracos na floresta.

Andábamos sin buscarnos, pero sabíamos que andábamos para encontrarnos

Just being near the Éveohtsé-heómÄ—se cost me eight hours of my life. The old ones call it the Wandering Without, the nothing, the thing that takes and never gives.

Lisa Plumley

Here we are and there we go:---but where?

Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, How shall ye flee away and be at rest! The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave, Mankind their country — Israel but the grave!

The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space.

I think that travel comes from some deep urge to see the world, like the urge that brings up a worm in an Irish bog to see the moon when it is full.

Some men are daylight readers, who peruse the ambiguous wording of clouds or the individual letter shapes of wandering birds. Some, like myself, are librarians of the night, whose ephemeral documents consist of root-inscribed bones or whatever rustles in the thickets upon solitary walks.

Against the popular misconception, cowboys never did own ranches. They were not much more than the expert, wandering hippies of their day, cossacks of the range who knew animals much better than each other.

We came from over here, to over there Then told we wonder mindless to degree most seldom furls in slumber, burns begins a century.

I rode a streetcar to the edge of the city limits, then I started to walk, swinging the old thumb whenever I saw a car coming.

Way up in my tree I'm sitting by my fire Wond'rin' where in this world might you be And knowin' all the time you're still roamin' the countryside Do you still think about me?

Sometimes getting lost helps you find yourself.

Wherever his faltering mind, unsteadily wanders, he should restrain it and bring it under self-control Krishna, the mind is faltering, violent, strong, and stubborn; I find it as difficult to hold as the wind.

I sometimes seem to myself to wander around the world merely accumulating material for future nostalgias.

Of course there is nothing the matter with the starsIt is my emptiness among themWhile they drift farther away in the invisible morning.

I went out to the hazel wood because a fire was in my head cut and peeled a hazel wand and hooked a berry to a thread and when white moths were on the wing and moth-like stars were flickering out I dropped the berry in a stream, and caught a little silver trout.... (Song of Wandering Aengus)

The wandering earth herself may be Only a sudden flaming word, In clanging space a moment heard, Troubling the endless reverie. -from "The Song of the Happy Shepherd

The wandering earth herself may be Only a sudden flaming word, In clanging space a moment heard, Troubling the endless reverie.