Quotes About Drifter

I think it was definitely a love for the four- or five-part vocal male harmony groups that really took me away. I'd always try and be, like, the fifth Drifter; I'd always try and find another harmony that wasn't there.

It is with these thoughts in mind that I now see the drifter's windburned face when I now consider my world-his face that reminds that there is still something left to believe in after there is nothing left to believe. A face for people like me-who were pushed to the edge of loneliness and who maybe fell off and who when we climbed back on, our world never looked the same

She's a gipsy really. That's why she can't stay in houses. She wanders away and comes back again.

I figured if I write a modern thriller but spliced in the DNA of a classic western - the drifter who comes into town with secrets - I could do something interesting with both genres. Westerns are also an incarnation of the classic knight errant tale, the lone warrior with a moral code, and I love those types of stories.

You been to school, you say you are a lawyer, you walked out of a magazine. I've been a drifter and a low-life loser, you can learn a lot from me.

I'm a drifter. I go where the wind blows.

I realized horses have personality when I bought one and I had one, who's now out to pasture, a horse named Drifter. Before that, I was a city boy. Horses, I used to go out to the LaBagh Woods and ride at a stable once every two years or something; no idea about horses. Dogs, I knew, had personalities, but not horses.

I'm a drifter and an outsider. There's not one single environment I can totally belong to.

I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else.

In accordance with his high time preference, he may want to be a vagabond, a drifter, a drunkard, a junkie, a daydreamer, or simply a happy go-lucky kind of guy who likes to work as little as possible in order to enjoy each and every day to the fullest.

I?" the man said. "I am a drifter. A miscreant. The flame's last breath, made of smoke at its passing.

and isn't it the curse of the drifter, the desolation of heart we feel each evening at sundown, with the slow loop of the river out there just for a half a minute, catching the last light, pregnant with the city in all its density and wonder, the possibilities never to be counted, much less lived into, by the likes of us, don't you see, for we're only passing through, we're already ghosts.

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

Hiro is a talented drifter. This is the kind of lifestyle that sounded romantic to him as recently as five years ago. But in the bleak light of full adulthood, which is to one's early twenties as Sunday morning is to Saturday night, he can clearly see what it really amounts to: He's broke and unemployed.

Now I am a vagabond of the universe, a drifter among spaces where the madness of things has no limits.

I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else. I will never feel the pressure of peers or the burden of parental expectation. I can view everyone as pieces of a whole, and focus on the whole, not the pieces. I have learned to observe, far better than most people observe. I am not blinded by the past or motivated by the future. I focus on the present because that is where I am destined to live.

I am a drifter, and as lonely as that can be, it is also remarkably freeing. I will never define myself in terms of anyone else.

I understood that he did not see the person he was talking to. He had the drifter's inclination to be impervious to names and faces. These were interchangeable components room to room, country to country. He did not talk so much as narrate. He traced a wavy line, his, and there was usually someone willing to be the random body that he told his stories to.