Best 3492 quotes in «adventure quotes» category

There is a word I have always avoided in my writing, my life, my thoughts. That word is love. What does it mean? How do you deal with it? If you find it and lose it, how do you get over it? Love is something you feel and when you feel it you can’t trust it or define it. How can you sustain love for a long time? A short time? You may love your family, your friends. But you don’t invite them inside your body.

There is no adventure without risk, and no exhilaration like adventure.

There is no adventure like the journey of life.

There is no limit to life. The only limit is the limit you put into life.

There is no limit to what you can do.

There is no lateness in life.

There is no point of adventure if you have known about everything. I wonder how God deals with the situation, considering the boredom.

There is nothing to lose in life. Be courageous!

There is not truly bad weather, just bad clothes.

There is the world you know, the world you have always known; and then you blink, and there is a place you never had any inkling of, and it spreads out across your eyescape. And then, most shockingly of all: there is the realization that these two places are one and the same. It turns out you never really knew the world around you at all. This is often the moment at which adventure begins.

There is your car and the open road, the fabled lure of random adventure. You stand at the verge, and you could become anything. Your future shifts and warps with your smallest step, your shitty little whims. The man you will become is at your mercy.

There once was a strong man on the mountain, not easily read as intended; such he said once, to be read as intended, far more the daring task, most difficult of adventures, a journey with no exceptions. My story alike, cannot be fathomed truly, but the attempt most honorably, to understand, that which is most needed.

There's adventure in the air. . . and cake to be eaten.

…There’s forty-two thousand jobs, near ten thousand of ’em got by people like us. Everyone’s gotta eat. Industry feeds ’em. They figure Little Bear here’s gonna clean it up." He squeezed his baby, a dimpled plump girl with tufts of jet-black hair. "Paa paa ba baaa!" she said. It was time for a nap. Lou sipped from his thermos, and Little Bear’s eyes drooped, and Missy remembered the voice of Rasmus Krook. 'The people will pay with their whole being: physically, mentally, ideologically, spiritually, with their land, their soul. And not just country people. Not just native people. Poison will flow through villages, towns, and cities and not stop. We must rise up. We must disrupt the system. Capitalism is a deception.' "You can help pirates," she said, because that’s the only answer she knew. Lou lifted his coffee in salute, and Missy stood up to jump.

There’s no tragedy you can’t profit from.

There’s several colonies setup on islands that have not been touched yet by Europeans and I’m sure some of them will be happy to take them in, also anyone that wants too can join my crew but I won’t force them to join, it will have to be their decision, either way it will be a though life for them but it will be a free life... their life and that’s all that really matters in the end... making your own decisions

There’s someone here.” “I know.” She said, “Where’s Scott?” “I’m not sure,” He said, “I thought you were going to wait outside with Nichole and Matt.” “We decided to come in.” “You mean they’re in here too?” “Yes.” “Okay…” He said calmly, “You stay here.” She nodded as he turned to go. “Oh, and Carrie.” “Yes?” “Could you actually listen to me this time?” He asked with a faint smile on his face.

There's something in there," Matt said. "Something alive. It punched me." "Punched you?" Baldwin's face screwed up. "Are you sure a bat didn't fly into you? I bet there are a few in there." Matt rubbed his tender jaw. "Unless its name is Bruce Wayne, that wasn't a bat.

There the black horse stood - his feet planted firm on the ground, afraid to move. His coat was covered in sweat and a stark white rim lined his eyes. All three of us gawked at his sudden silence. The rattling metal gate was now the only sound.

There were fat cats and skinny cats. The long-tailed and the bobbed. The daring young leapers, and the old windowsill sleepers. Balls of waddling fluff, smooth-coated prowlers, and hairless ones that looked fragile and wise. The tiger-striped, the ring-tailed, and the ones with matching coloured socks and mittens. There were tabbies and calicos. Manx and Persians. Siamese and Bombay. Ragdolls and Birmans. Maine Coons and Russian Blues. There were Snowshoes and Somalis, Tonkinese and Turkish, and many, many more. Brown and beige and orange and grey and black and white and silver cats, each with gleaming eyes of emerald, or sapphire, or amber. A rainbow of precious stones.

There was still a bit of sunshine in the sky, not that it mattered. High treetops and reaching branches entombed us from above in a dark coffin. It was still in the afternoon. We had time to gather things together for camp, but the choked rays that permeated the living casket were sputtering their last bits of life. — Tyrus Savage narration from ORRLETH, Volume One of the Orrleth Young Adult Fantasy Paranormal Series

The “right time’ is now. Go onward and fulfill your dream.

The riders, clad in crimson and black, stopped to scan the maze. Blaise shrank into the hedge, but one keen-eyed hunter spied him. He raised his crossbow, took careful aim and fired.

The riskiest yet rewarding thing is to paint in our head of how our life is going to be.

The road listens. It believes in you.

The rig began shaking like caffeine withdrawal." --Opening sentence of THE FURY. "The duct-taped Buick swam north on Rush Street, hunting whores like a lesser white shark." --First sentence of Chapter One, THE FURY

The roadmap to a rich, rewarding life is to follow your passion, to be willing to deviate, to never dull to the dawn of a new day and all of the possibilities it holds for adventure and discovery.

The romance of danger and adventure in forbidden places.

The sacred soul who desire to work, must not be interrupted.

The sacred time defined the sacred-moment.

The sad thing about miracles is that they’re unique. They can’t be explained, or shared, or duplicated. And they absolutely cannot be captured and made to perform on demand. If that day ever came, our world would die for lack of wonder.

These abilities, this wonderful gift of nature, gives us the opportunity to control any living thing on Earth, Alex. The power that has no equals in the whole world. Ability to subdue and suppress,” his voice now sounded louder and different somehow, “ to fully own someone else’s mind, will, and desire.

The screech of tyres, an almighty bang and a car exploded through the playground wall like a high-velocity bullet through a watermelon.

The search for the soul is a sacred adventure.

The secret belongs only to the Maker of good and faithful dogs.

These are Plenimaran marines, and there's not much most of them aren't capable of, if you take my meaning." "I don't think I do," said Alec, puzzled by Seregil's tone. "Then try this. They have a saying among them: 'When whores are few, a boy will do.' Got that?" "Oh." Alec felt his face go hot.

These Aussie girls are free to set their own courses in the world, to meander and experiment. Their travels are not bumps along the road - they are life itself. See the world and then come home and decide who you want to be in it, not the other way around, as seems the general trajectory in the U.S.

These three children own the summer. They know the wood as surely as they know the micro landscapes of their own grazed knees; put them down blindfolded in any dell or clearing and they could find their way out without putting a foot wrong. This is their territory, and they rule it wild and lordly as young animals; they scramble through its trees and hide-and-seek in its hollows all the endless day long, and all night in their dreams.

The shores safety keeps many from the oceans treasures.

The Sleepin’ Fox Catches No Poultry.

The soul attracted leaned to the Abyss: It longed for the adventure of Ignorance

The stretch of Bruce Highway between Gin Gin and Miriam Vale was long and lonesome.

The Sun Dagger appeared on the rock face directly above the Shaman’s shadowed head. It dazzled within the shade as the sunlight slipped through a gap in the overhead slabs. The dagger cut slowly down the rock, slicing through the very center of the etched spiral. “The middle of time,” Chaco whispered to himself.

The supreme adventure is not falling in love. The supreme adventure is being born ... by the act of being born, we step into a world which is incalculable, into a world which has its own strange laws, into a world which could do without us, into a world that we have not made. In other words ... we step into a fairy-tale.

The system is only as good as its leaders. When they fail—when the system fails—you better damn well hope I’m there to pick up the slack.” The man’s glower lost some of its fervor. “No one appointed you humanity’s protector.” “No one had to—and if you don’t understand why that is, then you’re not nearly the man I was told you are. I’m leaving now, and I’m going to assume we’re done. But if you threaten me again, you had better bring help.

The Talmud states, "Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

The thing is… I was a very proud girl. I never wanted to take the chance I might get hurt. Isn’t that funny? I was game for any exciting adventure that came my way, but when it came to risking my heart, I was a coward.

The thought of that kid pulling a knife on the other, for something as trivial as a stereo, was unconscionable to a simple, peace-loving man like Nathan, who grew up in a time when people still talked to each other . . . when there was still a dialogue going on. Sure, there had always been violence, he didn't deny that, but it was the exception when he was growing up, compared to the new 'normal' of today: this constant threat, all the time, everywhere . . . around every corner. The world was seething now, bubbling over in a cauldron of rage.

The time is now. What you have to do, do it now.

The tools of their trade were simple, effective things: iron knuckles, saps and the like. But the iconic tool of the scuttler arsenal was a woven leather belt with a heavy iron or brass buckle used to decrease intelligence one wallop at a time.