Quotes About Exploration

I think I've got a map in my car that wants to be used, and I think there are places we can go that need to be seen. Maybe no one else will ever visit them and appreciated them or take the time to think they're important, but maybe even the smallest places mean something. And if not, maybe they can mean something to us.

I think there are places we can go that need to be seen. Maybe no one else will ever visit them and appreciate them or take the time to think they're important, but maybe even the smallest places mean something. And if not, maybe they can mean something to us. At the very least, by the time we leave, we know we will have seen it, this great state of ours. So come on. Let's go. Let's count for something. Let's get off that ledge.

Dear Friend, You are not a freak. You are wanted. You are necessary. You are the only you there is. Don't be afraid to leave the castle. It's a great big world out there.

We should write about our wanderings so we have something to show for them besides pictures. Actually, you should do the writing. I'll just smile and look pretty.

When we're in the act of wandering, we need to be present, not watching it through a lens.

Also, I figure while I'm here, I might as well get to know it, you know—see what there is to see.

I feel like I just walked through the back of the wardrobe and into Narnia.

Drive anywhere and everywhere, even when there's nowhere to go. (Note: There's always somewhere to go.)

If I do anything, I have to start over, but all I have is fragments of ideas. Just places.

Today is your day! You're off to Greatest Places! You're off and away! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way!

Germ—Ask a Parent, book playlists, monthly soundtracks, lists of places where girls like me can get involved. One of the things I want to create is a Wander section where readers can send in pictures or videos of their favorite grand, small, bizarre, poetic, nothing-ordinary sites.

Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!

Your mountain is waiting. So...get on your way!

I think there are places we can go that need to be seen. Maybe no one else will ever visit them and appreciate them or take the time to think they're important, but maybe even the smallest places mean something. And if not, maybe they can mean something to us. At the very least, by the time we leave, we know we will have seen it

And even though I didn't know this exact moment existed, I wanted to be out here in the world to see it.

I'd go to Hoosier Hill with a beautiful gir

feel free to choose the places that strike our fancy, no matter how obscure or far away.

I'm trying out Theodore Finch, '80s kid, and seeing how he fits.

which is exactly how we act, the three of us running off in three different directions.

Maybe no one else will ever visit them and appreciate them or take the time to think they're important, but maybe even the smallest places mean something. And if not, maybe they can mean something to us. At the very least, by the time we leave, we know we will have seen it, this great state of ours. So come on. Let's go. Let's count for something. Let's get off that ledge.

I abandoned the assigned problems in standard calculus textbooks and followed my curiosity. Wherever I happened to be--a Vegas casino, Disneyland, surfing in Hawaii, or sweating on the elliptical in Boesel's Green Microgym--I asked myself, "Where is the calculus in this experience?

Cram your head with characters and stories. Abuse your library privileges. Never stop looking at the world, and never stop reading to find out what sense other people have made of it. If people give you a hard time and tell you to get your nose out of a book, tell them you're working. Tell them it's research. Tell them to pipe down and leave you alone.

Cram your head with characters and stories. Abuse your library privileges. Never stop looking at the world, and never stop reading to find out what sense other people have made of it. If people give you a hard time and tell you to get your nose out of a book, tell them you're working. Tell them it's research. Tell them to pipe down and leave you alone.

When I was five I learned to read. Books were a miracle to me - white pages, black ink, and new worlds and different friends in each one. To this day, I relish the feeling of cracking a binding for the first time, the anticipation of where I'll go and whom I'll meet inside.