135 Quotes Tagged: journey

I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage. They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known. Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.

Life is a journey with almost limitless detours.

They spoke less and less between them until at last they were silent altogether as is often the way with travelers approaching the end of a journey.

Sometimes a journey makes itself necessary.

For my part, i travel not to go anywhere but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move

"Will you remember this day, Gogol?" his father had asked, turning back to look at him, his hands pressed like earmuffs to either side of his head. "How long do I have to remember it?" Over the rise and fall of the wind, he could hear his father's laughter. He was standing there, waiting for Gogol to catch up, putting out a hand as Gogol drew near. "Try to remember it always," he said once Gogol reached him, leading him slowly back across the breakwater, to where his mother and Sonia stood waiting. "Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go."

You have no control over how your story begins or ends. But by now, you should know that all things have an ending. Every spark returns to darkness. Every sound returns to silence. Every flower returns to sleep with the earth. The journey of the sun and moon is predictable. But yours, is your ultimate art.

Though the road's been rocky it sure feels good to me.

Life is a journey with almost limitless possibilities.

One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking things.

I'm with you in Rockland
in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night.

Dich hab ich nicht erreicht-
Doch nähert Tag für Tag
Sich dir mein Fuß
Drei Flüsse noch und ein Berg
Ich überqueren muss.
Noch Eine Wüste, noch ein Meer,
Die Reise aber zähl ich nicht,
Wenn ich dann vor Dir steh.

Wir schreiten leicht, wie Schnee wir stehen,
die Wasser murmeln leis.
Flüsse, Wüsten, Berg und Meer
sind von uns durchlaufen.
Doch Tod entreißt mir meinen Preis,
Dich schauend, er gewinnt.

I really like to stay in my nest and not move. I travel in my mind, and that's a rigorous state of journeying for me. My body isn't that interested in moving from place to place.

Faith keeps our ships moving, while empathy and the memories of our experiences lead to wisdom.

Featherweight by Suzy Kassem

One evening,
I sat by the ocean and questioned the moon about my destiny.
I revealed to it that I was beginning to feel smaller compared to others,
Because the more secrets of the universe I would unlock,
The smaller in size I became.

I didn't understand why I wasn't feeling larger instead of smaller.
I thought that seeking Truth was what was required of us all –
To show us the way, not to make us feel lost,
Up against the odds,
In a devilish game partitioned by
An invisible wall.

Then the next morning,
A bird appeared at my window, just as the sun began
Spreading its yolk over the horizon.
It remained perched for a long time,
Gazing at me intently, to make sure I knew I wasn’t dreaming.
Then its words gently echoed throughout my mind,
Telling me:

'The world you are in –
Is the true hell.
The journey to Truth itself
Is what quickens the heart to become lighter.
The lighter the heart, the purer it is.
The purer the heart, the closer to light it becomes.
And the heavier the heart,
The more chained to this hell
It will remain.'

And just like that, it flew off towards the sun,
Leaving behind a tiny feather.
So I picked it up,
And fastened it to a toothpick,
To dip into ink
And write my name.