Quotes About Exploration

Stars and planets, after all, travelled on predictable orbits - but the wind, nobody knew where the wind would choose to go.

that he was no stranger to budmashing, barnshooting

We could talk about totally different things. Like the seasons of the year, for example, or even the star-filled sky of these summer nights: I'm interested in stars and nebulas. Maybe you are, too?

books that Uncle bought in Odessa or acquired in Heidelberg, books that he discovered in Lausanne or found in Berlin or Warsaw, books he ordered from America and books the like of which exist nowhere but in the Vatican Library, in Hebrew, Aramaic, Syriac, classical and modern Greek, Sanskrit, Latin, medieval Arabic, Russian, English, German, Spanish, Polish, French, Italian, and languages and dialects I had never even heard of, like Ugaritic and Slovene, Maltese and Old Church Slavonic.

Možda je samo smrt ''nepovratna'', a i to ?u jednog dana ispitati sasvim izbliza i intimno.

It was late December 1938, and since then I have never been abroad, except maybe in my thoughts. And I shall never go. It's not because the Land of Israel is so wonderful, it's because I now believe that all journeys are ridiculous: the only journey from which you don't always come back empty-handed is the journey inside yourself.

Everything I've ever done that's valuable is something I was afraid to try.

It can neither be concealed nor overstated: These types of things genuinely interest and delight me. One small wordplay discovery—say, figuring out that an anagram for maker is me, AKR—will make my whole day.

turn page upside down =

If I stopped running and stood still, I would be accepting that what I had was all I would ever have. And then I would no longer be lost, because there would nowhere else to go

Nadie, ni yo ni nadie, puede andar este camino por ti. Habrás de recorrerlo tú solo. No está lejos; lo tienes a tu alcance. Tal vez estás en él desde que naciste, sin saberlo. Tal vez está en todas partes: en el mar y en la tierra.

We are going to the moon that is not very far. Man has so much farther to go within himself.

Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous.

Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.

When I am most deeply rooted, I feel the wildest desire to uproot myself.

My ideas usually come not at my desk writing but in the midst of living.

How can I accept a limited definable self when I feel, in me, all possibilities?... I never feel the four walls around the substance of the self, the core. I feel only space. Illimitable space.

I can't let you go now. I want to go places with you; obscure little places, just to be able to say: here I came with her.

Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go.

The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truths is the real wonder which the child and the artist know: magic and power lie in truth.

Through books I discovered everything to be loved, explored, visited, communed with. I was enriched and given all the blueprints to a marvelous life, I was consoled in adversity, I was prepared for both joys and sorrows, I acquired one of the most precious sources of strength of all: an understanding of human beings, insight into their motivations.

It is right that you should read according to your temperament, occupations, hobbies, and vocations. But it is a sign of great inner insecurity to be hostile to the unfamiliar, unwilling to explore the unfamiliar. In science, we respect the research worker. In literature, we should not always read the books blessed by the majority.

His room was like an explorer's den, a lair of furs, the cave of a magician.

How to live as divided cells — voilà! Something always eludes the scientists, the poets, the stargazers, the biologists, the anthropologists. Something eludes the informers, detectives, police, lawyers. It is the dream. And what lies in the deformed mirrors of the dream and haunts our sleep is the secret of everything.