Quotes About Exploration

That annoying thing that tourists did, opening a feed into London's sea of blue plaques.

The best thing about having had all that done, aside from getting a new mouth, was that he'd gotten to see a little bit of Basel, going out for the treatments. Otherwise, he'd stayed in the clinic, per his agreement.

I'm allergic to Best Ofs, canon of all sorts, rankings, comparison. I love the bottomless Borgesian library.

But it looks a lot like finding the weirdest shit you can get away with in one night, in San Francisco, if you're willing to blow a metric fuck-ton of money to do it.

Lupus Yonderboy

one can't really enjoy what science fiction does without being able to recognize the point at which the imaginary lifts off from the known.

This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grownups come to fetch us we'll have fun.

Heaven lies around us in our infancy.

I had never met the Roman Catholuc Church outside of a history book. To come across it living, so to speak, was like finding a diplodocus.

With any luck at all," he said, "we should soon be safely in the Fire Swamp.

Kid -- the next time I say, 'Let's go someplace like Bolivia,' let's go someplace like Bolivia.

Travel's greatest purpose is to replace an empty mind with an open one.

I read, and, in reading, lifted the Curtains of the Impossible that blind the mind, and looked out into the unknown.

Our science is a drop, our ignorance a sea.

La mayoría de la gente vive en un círculo muy restringido de sus posibilidades. Todos nosotros tenemos reservas de vida en las que ni siquiera soñamos.

Yet they may determine attitudes though they cannot furnish formulas, and opens a region though they fail to give a map.

I have always held the opinion that one of the first duties of a good reader is to summon other readers to the enjoyment of any unknown author of rare quality whom he may discover in his explorations.

My work feels like strands of my thoughts that have flown around the universe before coming back to materialise.

I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself there.

I'm Margarita Staples." She bowed in her harness. "Extreme librarian. Bookaneer.

We have to establish our credentials as an explorocracy; so to survive and rule ourselves, we have to explore.

Strictly speaking, she thought, this place was a cross between a forest and a jungle. "This is a jorest," she said to Hemi. "Yeah," he said. "No, it's a fungle." They grinned.

Young mudlarks searching the river quag for scrap had been known to step into some discoloured patch of mud and start speaking long-dead languages, or find locusts in their hair, or fade slowly to translucency and disappear.

In the streets of Un Lun Dun: a group of a girl, a half ghost, a talking book, a piece of rubbish, and two living words was unusual but not very.