Quotes About Exploration

Diamo e prendiamo e penetriamo in dolcezze incredibilmente complicate andando a zig zag da qualsiasi parte.

the road is life.

It's all a sea, I swim out of its in the afternoons.

I looked greedily out the window: stucco houses and palms and drive-ins, the whole mad thing, the ragged promised land, the fantastic end of America.

I think of Dean Moriarty.

Hopping a freight out of Los Angeles at high noon one day in late September 1955 I got on a gondola and lay down with my duffel bag under my head and my knees crossed and contemplated the clouds as we rolled north to Santa Barbara.

In the West he'd spent a third of his time in the poolhall, a third in jail, and a third in the public library. They'd seen him rushing eagerly down the winter streets, bareheaded, carrying books to the poolhall, or climbing trees to get into the attics of buddies where he spent days reading or hiding from the law.

There was nowhere to go but everywhere, so just keep on rolling under the stars...

I just won't sleep," I decided. There were so many other interesting things to do.

What's your road, man?—holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It's an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?

What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and thry recede on the plain til you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy adventure beneath the skies.

On the Road be the first book I'd read or heard of with a built-in soundtrack.

You boys going to get somewhere, or just going?

Alles, was ich wollte und was Neal wollte und was alle wollten, war, irgendwie ins Herz der Dinge vorzudringen,…

Behind us lay the whole of America and everything Dean and I had previously known about life, and life on the road. We had finally found the magic land at the end of the road and we never dreamed the extent of the magic.

Now, Sal, we're leaving everything behind us and entering a new and unknown phase of things. All the years and troubles and kicks—and now this! so that we can safely think of nothing else and just go on ahead with our faces stuck out like this, you see, and understand the world as, really and genuinely speaking, other Americans haven't done before us—they were here, weren't they? The Mexican war. Cutting across here with cannon.

Dean had a sweater wrapped around his ears to keep warm. He said we were a band of Arabs coming in to blow up New York. We swished through the Lincoln Tunnel and cut over to Times Square;

gaan jullie ergens naartoe jongens of zijn jullie maar wat onderweg?

On rails we leaned and looked at the great brown father of waters rolling down from mid-America like the torrent of broken souls

when they heard we were out in this country not to kill animals but just to climb mountains they took us to be hopeless eccentrics and left us alone.

Newton, Iowa, it was, where I'd taken that dawn walk in 1947. In the afternoon we crossed drowsy old Davenport again and the low-lying Mississippi in her sawdust bed; then Rock Island, a few minutes of traffic, the sun reddening, and sudden sights of lovely little tributary rivers flowing softly among the magic trees and greeneries of mid-American Illinois. It was beginning to look like the soft sweet East again; the great dry West was accomplished and done.

in search of something they don't really find, and losing themselves on the road, and coming all the way back hopeful of something else.

Whither goes thou, America, in thy shiny car in the night?

As I got deeper into Iowa, the pie bigger, the ice cream richer.