Best 2527 quotes in «travel quotes» category

She had learned to live light because life itself could be heavy enough.

She leaves a tiny part of her heart everywhere she travels and memories from the place fill up the void in her heart and soul.

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!

She's happy to be home but being home means that it's an end to her adventure and escape.

She smiled, and said, “Take care that the voice of God and the Devil sound one in the same in the desert. Trust your instincts. You were not put on this earth to be naïve, blindly optimistic, or passive; you are here to be vigilant, to survive.

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!

She told me "I want to go to your hometown. Someday I will go there and I will smile till the time I will stay there and be happy because its your home town. I am going to see you in every wall, every street, every glass, in every person, in every wave of the sea and smile.

She told me Pokhara is so beautiful that you will experience a myriad unforgettable moments. You will never be able to get enough of Pokhara.

She told me that some day she would go to my hometown and stay there for a while and be happy. And she will see me in every wall, every street, every glass, in every person, in every wave of the sea and smile.

She wasn't where she had been. She wasn't where she was going, but she was on her way.

Ships are my arrows, the sea my bow, the world my target.

Show me that horizon, promise me a world better than this on the other side of the sun.

Sicily is paradise. I live in paradise. Now pass the pasta please.

Simple minded people do things like gossip, lie, spread rumors, and cause troubles. But, I know you're more intelligent.

Since this often seems to come up in discussions of the radical style, I'll mention one other gleaning from my voyages. Beware of Identity politics. I'll rephrase that: have nothing to do with identity politics. I remember very well the first time I heard the saying "The Personal Is Political." It began as a sort of reaction to defeats and downturns that followed 1968: a consolation prize, as you might say, for people who had missed that year. I knew in my bones that a truly Bad Idea had entered the discourse. Nor was I wrong. People began to stand up at meetings and orate about how they 'felt', not about what or how they thought, and about who they were rather than what (if anything) they had done or stood for. It became the replication in even less interesting form of the narcissism of the small difference, because each identity group begat its sub-groups and "specificities." This tendency has often been satirised—the overweight caucus of the Cherokee transgender disabled lesbian faction demands a hearing on its needs—but never satirised enough. You have to have seen it really happen. From a way of being radical it very swiftly became a way of being reactionary; the Clarence Thomas hearings demonstrated this to all but the most dense and boring and selfish, but then, it was the dense and boring and selfish who had always seen identity politics as their big chance. Anyway, what you swiftly realise if you peek over the wall of your own immediate neighbourhood or environment, and travel beyond it, is, first, that we have a huge surplus of people who wouldn't change anything about the way they were born, or the group they were born into, but second that "humanity" (and the idea of change) is best represented by those who have the wit not to think, or should I say feel, in this way.

Sind sie vorbestraft? Du lieber Himmel ich wußte gar nicht, dass das immer noch nötig ist." Britischer Witz über die Einreise nach Australien

Sir Henry fixed him with a keen eye. 'Odd name, Tom Skatt - eh?' 'Thats right' 'You don't think we could be related?' Tom looked up at his great-great-great-uncle and smiled. 'I don't think so' 'No,' grinned Sir Henry "no, of course not

Slow down, take time, allow yourself to be wildly diverted from your plan. People are the soul of the place; don't forget to meet them and enjoy their company as you explore a place.

Sleeping in the simple small cottage rather than hotels... and under the billion stars is one of the breathtaking experience... pause, breath, nothingness moment is what gives meaning to my busy existence, that life is felt in silence, in that moment when what you see before you can no longer be conveyed with words...

So many birds sitting around, on a dead wire, a bare branch, a cold ground, a drifting seashore; never realizing the glory in their wings and where it can take them, nor the envy as we look on them.

Solen er forlængst dukket under synsranden, fjældene er blit hvitlig grønne, de ser ut i sin fjærnhet og i sin vælde som en verden for sig selv.

So many dream of travel without having an idea of its reality: a language sounds exotic only when you don’t understand it, and a culture appears better than your own only when you aren’t in it.

Some flowers need flames to find their way into this world.

Some days you just get lucky… Other days you wait patiently for luck to happen

Somehow, we were passing the boundaries of language and finding clarity in shared thought, even if we were just talking about beer!

Some moments drift and some moments make us drift!

Some days are about preparation, but some are pure inspiration.

Some journeys can only be traveled alone.

Some people when they see cheese, chocolate or cake they don't think of calories.

Some people read for instruction, which is praiseworthy, and some for pleasure, which is innocent, but not a few read from habit, and I suppose that is neither innocent nor praiseworthy. Of that lamentable company am I. Conversation after a time bores me, games tire me, and my own thoughts, which we are told are the unfailing resource of a sensible man, have a tendency to run dry. Then I fly to my book as the opium-seeker to his pipe. I would sooner read the catalogue of the Army and Navy stores or Bradshaw's Guide than nothing at all, and indeed I have spent many delightful hours over both these works. At one time I never went out without a second-hand bookseller's list in my pocket. I know no reading more fruity. Of course to read in this way is as reprehensible as doping, and I never cease to wonder at the impertinence of great readers who, because they are such, look down on the illiterate. From the standpoint of what eternity is it better to have read a thousand books than to have ploughed a million furrows? Let us admit that reading with us is just a drug that we cannot do without — who of this band does not know the restlessness that attacks him when he has been severed from reading too long, the apprehension and irritability, and the sigh of relief which the sight of a printed page extracts from him? — and so let us be no more vainglorious than the poor slaves of the hypodermic needle or the pint-pot. And like the dope-fiend who cannot move from place to place without taking with him a plentiful supply of his deadly balm I never venture far without a sufficiency of reading matter. Books are so necessary to me that when in a railway train I have become aware that fellow-travellers have come away without a single one I have been seized with a veritable dismay. But when I am starting on a long journey the problem is formidable.

Something draws you... An impatience with your own ignorance.

Sometimes a bus is your bus, and sometimes it ain't, and it's important that you can tell the difference.

Sometimes a friend is most important, for friends are always there to laugh, cry, travel, see, hide, and feel with the other person. They will always be there. That is the measure of a true person: being a friend. It’s so much more than you think.

Something right in the morning can turn into something wrong in the afternoon! Even if you are on the right path, you must still question the rightness of your path! Conditions perpetually change! Update your path and your travel constantly!

Sometimes, even when I'm standing on a remarkable slice of terra firma, I'm besotted with wanderlust, my heart thumping for the next unknown place and my mind wondering what's next. But right now, in this rain forest, floating in crystal waters after a walk on ancient, sacred soil with my flesh and blood, I want to be nowhere else. Nowhere. This, right now, is home. I can hear God through the rustling of the prehistoric fan shaped leaves, the scurry of alien insects on the bark, the familiar laughter of my children slipping on stones in the water. Everything here is unfamiliar, but it's familiar. We are transient, vagabonds, and yet we're tethered.

Sometimes I picture my heart like the carry-on suitcase I dream I carry around the world. There's not enough room for everything in that carry-on. So I must choose carefully, wisely. I could pack the pain I have felt in the past, especially dealing with Mom. I could stuff all those grievances into my bag and drag them with me on my adventure-but that's a lot of weight to carry. So I carry with me the things I do love about my mom-her whimsical, childlike spirit, her positive attitude, her love for animals, her love for me.

Sometimes travelling to your very edge is travelling down to your very core.

Sometimes I travel just to be overwhelmed – for it’s good every now and then to be overwhelmed.

Sometimes there were trips to somebody's cousin's friend's plot of land by the black-water creeks off the highway, trips that killed me with nostalgia even while I lived them, driving aback a pickup, silvery rain pelting bare backs, leaves dancing on the mud trail, branches snapping back onto faces, puddles like lakes forded in the sinking vehicle, bushcook and red rum and drenched cricket, jamoon splattered purple upon the wet soil - the remarkable freedom of a forgotten and irrelevant place on earth.

Sometimes we have spent so long in the cage that it feels safer to be trapped inside.

Sometimes we have to break down to break through.

Sometimes, we must travel on the longest path to our sacred-destination.

Sometimes you do not need a particular destination to go, you just need a travel; the place you want to go is the travel itself!

Sometimes you have to let go a little bit and travel the path of least resistance but this doesn’t mean that you quit when things get tough, as you are working towards a goal! It just means that you may only be able to see a rough draft of your final destination, right now, and that it’s safe to explore along the way.

Some trips are more than distance traveled in miles.

So now it’s this thing I do. I go away, ever so often, by myself, for myself, to new places with foreign streets I haven’t walked yet, and there I wander, up and down, watching people going places I don’t know and it always hits me that they’re never alone, always with someone, and I wonder how they would spend a day all on their own in a foreign city with nothing to do and no one to see, and I wonder if they’d be happy. Just simply being free, like I am trying to be. Happy. Just simply being me.

sometimes we are so lonely that we are more ready to fall in love with the concept of a person than the person in itself. Some people are thirsty for life, while others are hungry for love - and a girl who travels will know that there have been people who have fallen in love with her for the wrong reasons

Sometimes we wander to find ourselves rather than to find places.

Sometimes, you feel yourself weightless, thinned. You draw back the curtains (if there are any) on a rectangle of wasteland at dawn, and realise that you are cast adrift from everything that gave you identity. Thousands of miles from anyone who knows you, you have the illusion that your past is lighter, scarcely yours at all. Even your ties of love have been attenuated (the emergency satellite phone is in my rucksack and nobody calls). Dangerously, you may come to feel invulnerable.