Quotes About Discovery

What I love is one foot in front of another. South-south-west and down the contours. I go slipping between Black Ridge and White Horse Hill into a bowl of the moor where echoes can't get out listen a lark spinning around one note splitting and mending it and I find you in the reeds, a trickle coming out of a bark, a foal of a river

three people in raincoats losing their tracks in the snow walking as far as the edge and back again with the trees exhausted tapping at the sky

Sometimes the dreams that come true are the dreams you never even knew you had.

After all, the word "travel" comes from the Latin "trepalium." Which, loosely translated, means "instrument of torture.

I guess the idea of stepping out from behind the "camouflage of routine," as someone once described it, still intimated me.

As promised, Kyoto Station turned out to be an ordeal. For ninety minutes I searched for a way out of the sixteen-story train station

Always in the Big Woods when you step off alone into a new place, there will be along with...curiosity and excitement, a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the Unknown.

Wherever I have knocked, a door has opened. Wherever I have wandered, a path has appeared.

In search of my mother's garden, I found my own.

I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ask. And that in wondering bout the big things and asking bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, the more I love.

In search of my mother's garden, I found my own.

But once you finally take sail in your life, you no longer crave a captain.

Everything you want to be, you already are. You're simply on the path to discovering it.

Where the hell did this come from? Alex flipped through a Pondimin package insert he had found in another box and saw the last line: Revised June 20, 1996. A similar warning for Redux, a nearly identical drug, was dated April 29, 1996.

Now comes the good part. Breathing the happy gas, I get answers to all the questions I had about death but was afraid to ask.

Now the real beginnings of the 'freedom' which we have discussed for many years--and a heady freedom it is, coming after so many years of reaching outward for it--to finally discover all I had to do was reach inward, and it was there waiting all the time for me

Mijn haar... dat is Alice' haar! Ik weet het zeker. Maar hoe... hoe zijn ze daaraan gekomen? William moet een lok hebben afgeknipt en hem hebben bewaard...

My homosexuality remained at that point purely theoretical, an untested hypothesis. But it was a hypothesise so thorough and so convincing I saw no reason not to share it immediately.

So far, so good, thought Maerad, wondering how she was to explain to these people why she had come so far north. Because of a dream, because of a few clues scoured here and there, from a half-mad old Pilanel woman and a wise goatherd in Thorold--what sense could they possibly make of what she told them?

What's it like to be a baby? It's like being in love in Paris for the first time after you've had three double espressos.

Asking questions is what brains were born to do, at least when we were young children. For young children, quite literally, seeking explanations is as deeply rooted a drive as seeking food or water.

It's not that children are little scientists but that scientists are big children.

I'll show that babies, like scientists, use statistics and experiments to learn about the world.

Literature is the equivalent of the climate scientist's computer simulations: set up some new starting conditions, run the whole complicated process and see what happens.