I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.
Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.
Our happiest moments as tourists always seem to come when we stumble upon one thing while in pursuit of something else.
I see my path, but I don't know where it leads.
The voice of the sea is seductive, never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander in abysses of solitude.
I was a fantastic student until ten, and then my mind began to wander.
Indeed it is better to postpone, lest either we complete too little by hurrying, or wander too long in completing it.
When they talk of ghosts of the dead who wander in the night with things still undone in life, they approximate my subjective experience of this life.
Intellectual despair results in neither weakness nor dreams, but in violence. It is only a matter of knowing how to give vent to one's rage; whether one only wants to wander like madmen around prisons, or whether one wants to overturn them.
It’s funny. When you leave your home and wander really far, you always think, ‘I want to go home.’ But then you come home, and of course it’s not the same. You can’t live with it, you can’t live away from it. And it seems like from then on there’s always this yearning for some place that doesn’t exist. I felt that. Still do. I’m never completely at home anywhere.
Traveling tends to magnify all human emotions.
We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next to find ourselves.
All the pathos and irony of leaving one's youth behind is thus implicit in every joyous moment of travel: one knows that the first joy can never be recovered, and the wise traveller learns not to repeat successes but tries new places all the time.
Every dreamer knows that it is entirely possible to be homesick for a place you've never been to, perhaps more homesick than for familiar ground.
Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends
If you don t know where you are, a map won't help.
All the pathos and irony of leaving one’s youth behind is thus implicit in every joyous moment of travel
Sometimes I feel that I am destined always to be offstage whenever the main action occurs. That God has made me the victim of some cosmic practical joke, by assigning me little more than a walk-on part in my own life. Or sometimes I feel that my role is simply to be a spectator to other people's stories, and always to wander away at the most important moment, drifiting into the kitchen to make a cup of tea just as the denouement unfolds.
I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it.
All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, A light from the shadows shall spring; Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The crownless again shall be king.
Government! Three-fourths parasitic and the rest stupid fumbling - oh, Harshaw concluded that man, a social animal, could not avoid government, any more than an individual could escape bondage to his bowels. But simply because an evil was inescapable was no reason to term it "good." He wished that government would wander off and get lost! (96)
A vagrant is everywhere at home.
Nature brings us back to absolute truth whenever we wander.
In order not to end up like the masses out there who are merely wandering and unsure of their goals and dreams, your objective must be clear. When your purpose is clear, your life will have meaning.
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