Best 105 of Wandering quotes - MyQuotes
She said "You are a wanderer. You keep on wandering. Please take care! And I said "I am the wanderer. Don't worry about me. But Thank you for your good wishes!
I love uncertainty, the feeling of being lost. When you're lost, you're free.
Sometimes I wonder if it does exist such a thing called personality.
Visions from the gods are gifts alone for those who wander.
A million miles from nowhere, is better than going nowhere, a million times.
It might be well enough to wander if you've a place and people to come back to, but I tell you now there's no desolation like wanting to go home and truly not knowing where it is.
Avijeet Das > Quotes > Quotable Quote “She: So where do we go from here? He: Nowhere! She: What do you mean? He: You go your way and I go mine! She: Can we have a future together? He: I don't settle down! I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny!” ― Avijeet Das
She: So where do we go from here? He: Nowhere! She: What do you mean? He: You go your way and I go mine! She: Can we have a future together? He: I don't settle down! I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny! ― Avijeet Das
Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.
When no possessions keep us, when no countries contain us, and no time detains us, man becomes a heroic wanderer, and woman, a wanderess.
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
Though life shall come to an end one day, don't end life whilst living. So many people end their lives whilst they live before their lives come to a real end! There is always another tomorrow to do something different!
No reprimand in the mirror Slow walk to Liberia Slow dance across the Sahara Slow unraveling of gray matter
My life was a hard and difficult desert. I was wandering aimlessly. I was a nomad. I was a wanderer. I was a drifter. Why was I drifting? Yes, I wish I knew why? I was not aware of the reason myself. Why was I drifting?
I was never afraid of the dark and I spent my youth walking through empty playgrounds at midnight, worried mothers telling girls to be careful and ”the world is an ugly place and not everyone wants you well”. But I was not afraid and I wished for adrenaline to make my veins pulsate in that way that puts them more on the outside of my skin than inside. After the first night with you I never walked alone at night again because suddenly I had something to lose. Something to save.
Half the world is wandering, the other half is lost.
I’ve just been wandering the streets at night. If I came by a German soldier out alone, I would follow him, shove the pistol to the back of his head, and shoot. Once, I even did two at the same time, but they were really drunk.” Poul-Erik aka ‘Willy’ The Informer by Steen Langstrup
My ideal journey: set out early and never arrive.
You may keep wandering in life all the time but one day life will take you to the place where you are meant to be!
Cutting my roots and leaving my home and family when I was 18 years old forced me to build my home in other things, like my music, stories and my journey. The last years I have more or less constantly been on my way, on the road, always leaving and never arriving, which also means leaving people. I’ve loved and lost and I have regrets and I miss and no matter how many times you leave, start over, achieve success or travel places it’s other people that matter. People, friends, family, lovers, strangers – they will forever stay with you, even if only through memory. I’ve grown to appreciate people to the deepest core and I’m trying to learn how to tell people what I want to tell them when I have the chance, before it’s too late. …
Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess When did you feel your most euphoric kiss? Was I the source of your greatest bliss?
I was wandering lonely and lost, till the music you played pulled my soul into a vortex of emotions, reminding me that I was still alive
[Y]ou were too alert to the figurative possibilities of words not to see the phrase [angle of repose] as descriptive of human as well as detrital rest. As you said, it was too good for mere dirt; you tried to apply it to your own wandering and uneasy life ... I wonder if you ever reached it.
Each malevolence has a cousin that heals it. I fancy Hurtsickle and Heartsease as herbal enemies –weeds growing in reach of one another; the bite and the balm in balance.
She liked then to wander alone into strange and unfamiliar places. She discovered many a sunny, sleepy corner, fashioned to dream in.
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
If God gives you a seed, He expects you to plant it;if He plants it for you, He expects you to water it; if He waters it for you, He expects you to prune it; if He prunes and keeps it for you, He expects you to harvest it; if He harvest it for you, He expects you to store it; if He stores it for you,He expects you to keep it safe from getting rotten and if He keeps it from getting rotten for you, He expects you to account for the seed.Yes!Life is all about purposefully fulfilling a purpose. We are expected to be doing something at each moment in our life or we live without purposefully living.
She was no better than the shells by her feet, tumbling this way and that at the beck and call of the waves.
With humanity, life has ended up with a living creature that never quite finds itself in the right place, a living creature destined to wander and endlessly make mistakes.
We show our animal nature by not living for the future, and our human nature by not living in the present.
Where the mountain crosses. On top of the mountain, I do not myself know where. I wandered where my mind and my heart seemed to be lost. I wandered away.
I am the wanderer and you are my destiny!
Never stop wandering into wonder.
Why aren't you in school? I see you every day wandering around." "Oh, they don't miss me," she said. "I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? Social to me means talking to you about things like this." She rattled some chestnuts that had fallen off the tree in the front yard. "Or talking about how strange the world is. Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? An hour of TV class, an hour of basketball or baseball or running, another hour of transcription history or painting pictures, and more sports, but do you know, we never ask questions, or at least most don't; they just run the answers at you, bing, bing, bing, and us sitting there for four more hours of film-teacher. That's not social to me at all. It's a lot of funnels and lot of water poured down the spout and out the bottom, and them telling us it's wine when it's not. They run us so ragged by the end of the day we can't do anything but go to bed or head for a Fun Park to bully people around, break windowpanes in the Window Smasher place or wreck cars in the Car Wrecker place with the big steel ball. Or go out in the cars and race on the streets, trying to see how close you can get to lampposts, playing 'chicken' and 'knock hubcaps.' I guess I'm everything they say I am, all right. I haven't any friends. That's supposed to prove I'm abnormal. But everyone I know is either shouting or dancing around like wild or beating up one another. Do you notice how people hurt each other nowadays?
He liked city walking. He didn't want to have to go to that place called countryside to take a walk. He wanted to stuff his hands in his pockets, set his internal compass vaguely east or south and wander till he was tired enough to get the bus home.
Some moments drift and some moments make us drift!
Roaming is the easiest part, just wandering around, looking the places, imagining how people lived there at that time, breathing deeply the open air around there and feeling the best.
I had no goals, no ambitions. That left me free to wander and amuse myself.
Virgil Kalyana Mittata Iordache
How I wish I was like the water, Flowing so freely with every drop Let my every emotion wonder, No need to start, nor even stop How I wish I was like the fire, Burning with every flame up Leaving a trace of hot desire As a Phoenix raises its' wings up How I wish I was like the earth, Raising each flower from the ground Seeing the beauty of death and birth And then returning to the ground How I wish I was like the wind, Hearing each whisper, sound and thought A lonesome and wandering little wind, Shattering all that has been sought Oh, how I wish I was where you are, Not separated by empty space, so far It seems like we're galaxies apart, But we find hope within our heart And how I wish I was all of the above, So I can come below and yet forget, The beauty of angels which come down like a dove And demons who love with no regret.
I am as restless a traveller in my own land as a wintering whooper swan.
It had the tangled floor plan common to all hospitals, seemingly designed by someone who believed in the healing power of watching confused visitors aimlessly wander around hallways.
Wonders amaze me. They can aim wanderlessly in any forest, be it of dark trees or lighted bushes. And apparently, as per what I’ve heard, they can buy stuff that’s on sale, but only if and when they feel wonderfully wonderful. Because otherwise they wouldn’t really be themselves, which would be a problem for them, because if they aren’t what they are - they can’t exist, and if they don’t exist – that makes them invisible and silent to all the wandering people, who may or may not be looking for them to sell themselves to.
I have been wandering for long. I have been drifting for long. Missing home!
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, who ever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life. A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my own smallest special detail. A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my father, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.
She: So where do we go from here? He: Nowhere! She: What do you mean? He: You go your way and I go mine! She: Can we have a future together? He: I don't settle down! I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny!
My love is like a lonely light wandering through the darkness searching for a home.
I'm a wanderer. But i don't wander to explore the outer physical world , I do it to explore the universe inside me.
Tyler Knott Gregson
What if it's the there and not the here that I long for? The wander and not the wait, the magic in the lost feet stumbling down the faraway street and the way the moon never hangs quite the same.
Ernest Agyemang Yeboah
So many people live life without knowing the life they are living. We must get a reasonable reason for living
... to wander far from the familiar "home" of his adolescent ways of belonging, doing, and being. He must, as poet Mary Oliver puts it, "stride deeper and deeper into the world." His culture will greatly influence the manner in which he wanders, as will his gender, physical constitution, psychological temperament, age, and bio-region. In one culture, his wandering might take him geographically far from his hometown or village. In another culture, geographic movement will have little importance for the true depth of his wandering. What is critical is not whether he engages in this practice or that, or undergoes this ritual or another, but that his wandering changes his relationship to the world, that he leaves the home of his adolescent identity, and that his border crossings usher him into the mysteries of nature and psyché.
I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I'm born to leave.
In coming to Alaska, McCandless yearned to wander uncharted country, to find a blank spot on the map. In 1992, however, there were no more blank spots on the map—-not in Alaska, not anywhere. But Chris, with his idiosyncratic logic, came up with an elegant solution to this dilemma: He simply got rid of the map. In his own mind, if nowhere else, the terra would thereby remain incognita.