Quotes About Exploration

I won the wintergirl trip over the border into dangerland.

I am almost a real girl the entire drive home. I went to a diner. I drank hot chocolate and ate french fries. Talked to a guy for a while. Laughed a couple of times. A little like ice-skating for the first time, wobbly, but I did it.

I am an iceberg drifting toward the edge of the map.

It doesn't matter where I go, I don't want to be there. And then I get to the next place, and I don't want to be there either.

Welcome to the only class that will teach you to how to survive" Welcome to Art.

I am an iceberg drifting towards the edge of the map

Maybe we'll run away to South America after the funeral and raise goats

I open books, but the stories are all locked up and I don't know the magic words.

Where did you live before you came here?" I asked. "The moon," he said smoothly. "We left because the place had no atmosphere.

SOUL, he writes on the board. The clay streaks the word like dried blood. This is where you can find your soul, if you dare. Where you can touch that part of you that you've never dared look at before. Do not come here and ask me to show you how to draw a face. Ask me to help you find the wind.

entrance of the park," I say.

I did not think of myself as a detective; I was a student of theology, and I was to spend my life in exploration, not of the darker crannies of human misbehaviour, but of the heights of human speculation concerning the nature of the Divine. That the two were not unrelated did not occur to me for years.

they turned up Regent Street, braced together against the sway of the pavement. [The Language of Bees, chapter 19]

I rode to the fourth floor, poked around until I found the stairway, and walked down a flight. I almost always do this and I sometimes wonder why. I think someone must have done it in a movie once and I was evidently impressed, but it's really a waste of time, especially when the elevator in question is self-service.

Research is a joy, especially when one is not burdened with an excessive reverence for the truth.

Basle, Zurich, Baden, Paris — the flickering of steel rails over the arterial systems of Europe's body: steel ganglia meeting and dividing away across mountains and valleys.

Other countries may offer you discoveries in manners or lore or landscape; Greece offers you something harder—the discovery of yourself.

Travel is in sad case. It is uncomfortable, it is expensive; it is a source of annoyance to our friends, and of loneliness to ourselves.

Have you lost your way? Don't be sad; be happy, because you will see new places, places that you have never been to! It is magical to lose the way!

Won't it be sad to have an Internet connection to Mars if there are no Martians to write to or e-mail us?

Which cheers the sad, revives the old, inspires The young, makes Weariness forget his toil, And Fear her danger; opens a new world When this, the present, palls.

I'm sad that there no more mysterious places in the world.

I leave, and the leaving is so exhilarating I know I can never go back. But then what? Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?

Measure what can be measured, and make measurable what cannot be measured.