Best 3492 quotes in «adventure quotes» category

She smiled sinisterly. Light mist started to slowly swirl around us. All I could see was her, the tall rocks and the white wall. She beckoned to me. I took a step and another. I was now ankle deep into the water. The mysterious girl smiled like a predator.

She snorted in amusement at my remark. “When are the guards going to start to notice?” Keith peered into the distance. “Starting now,

She's young and the world's wide open.

She thought he might have said her name, but it was background radiation accompanying the hum in her ears and the symphony in her head— —a song of quantum mechanics and trajectory calculations and astroscience physics and where to go, where to go, where to…

She wanted to make sure she studied all the manuals thoroughly, but she had to admit that part of her hesitation was the unsettling length of the list of things that could go wrong if she mishandled the pressure.

She was a wild ocean. And he had always seen people giving up while trying to swim in her and swim back to the shore before they could drown. He always hesitated about that adventure. He was scared of failing to swim, and drowning to death. But he was never able to stop thinking about how the adventure could end up. He finally made his mind up and started swimming. And eventually, he gave up against the waves and the storms she created and he began to drown. But the moment he stopped fighting to survive, she slowly embraced him inside her arms. And he began to realise that everything was very different than what he had always imagined. He could feel every breath he took there, better than any place he had ever lived. She was splendid and he never felt like swimming away from her arms ever.

She was a perfectly clean slate--a total enigma.

She was a gypsy, as soon as you unravelled the many layers to her wild spirit she was on her next quest to discover her magic. She was relentless like that, the woman didn't need no body but an open road, a pen and a couple of sunsets.

She was merely an actress who had been forced to perform her part on stage without fully knowing her lines. She was not real.

She was not in the body of a young woman but just as I remembered her: a little toddler with a beautiful smile. She reached out with her small hand, and I gripped her tiny fingers as I let go of the pain and sank deeper into the lake.

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

She was on a real, grown-up adventure, no matter how badly it should turn out.

Shining with craving, his emerald gaze penetrated her soul. "I desire you so much". His whisper melted her heart. His soft touch set her ablaze.

Silver constellations sparkled across the velvet sky, revealing the mythical creatures that lingered in the valley of stars.

Since humanity could write on paper, we were destined to tell our story with the heavens as our only reader and our biggest critic.

Singing rose up from the convent, filling the woods with a peaceful echo that tried to penetrate her heart and smooth her features; but nothing could ease the pain of saying goodbye.

Sir Wystan,” Ryla stated. “You have come. Is the danger quite near?” “Not yet, little one, but it is always wise to be several steps ahead of it,” the old knight said gently.

Si tous les hommes se mettaient à chercher une explication à la folie de leurs actes, il y a longtemps qu'il n'y aurait plus d'aventuriers.

Slap on a plume and call me a Fuerma, I can’t believe you’re the Ieta.

Solum invoked a sensation akin to lingering déjà vu in the wake of a dream. It was not Earth. Its city-planet architectural stylings hid the outline of continents that might have otherwise been recognizable and altered the vibrant blue-and-green color palette enough to erase any familiarity in its silhouette. Yet if you tilted your head just so and let your gaze unfocus a little, you could almost see Earth. Its echo, its memory.

Solovey will take me to the ends of the earth if I ask it. I am going into the world, Alyosha. I will be no one's bride, neither of man nor of God. I am going to Kiev and Sarai and Tsargrad, and I will look upon the sun on the sea.

Some adventures should never be repeated.

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

Some journeys don't have endings, they lead to new beginnings. These are the journeys that lead to great adventures!

Some of the best experiences are the most unexpected ones.

Someone who lives vicariously will never be truly happy because they're not happy with themselves.

Some of us let this realization guide us... We book trips to Tibet, we learn how to sculpt, we skydive. We try to pretend it's not almost over. But some of us just fill up our gas tanks and top off our Metro cards and do the grocery shopping, because if you only see the path that's right ahead of you, you don't obsess over when the cliff might drop off.

Some people are born with a vital and responsive energy. It not only enables them to keep abreast of the times; it qualifies them to furnish in their own personality a good bit of the motive power to the mad pace. They are fortunate beings. They do not need to apprehend the significance of things. They do not grow weary nor miss step, nor do they fall out of rank and sink by the wayside to be left contemplating the moving procession. Ah! that moving procession that has left me by the road-side! Its fantastic colors are more brilliant and beautiful than the sun on the undulating waters. What matter if souls and bodies are failing beneath the feet of the ever-pressing multitude! It moves with the majestic rhythm of the spheres. Its discordant clashes sweep upward in one harmonious tone that blends with the music of other worlds--to complete God's orchestra. It is greater than the stars--that moving procession of human energy; greater than the palpitating earth and the things growing thereon. Oh! I could weep at being left by the wayside; left with the grass and the clouds and a few dumb animals. True, I feel at home in the society of these symbols of life's immutability. In the procession I should feel the crushing feet, the clashing discords, the ruthless hands and stifling breath. I could not hear the rhythm of the march. Salve! ye dumb hearts. Let us be still and wait by the roadside.

Some people chase the idea of death so much they forget to do something as simple, yet profound, as live.

Some people think 1963's a long time ago; when a dead American in the jungle was an event, a grim thrilling novelty. It was spookwar then, adventure; not exactly soldiers, not even advisors yet, but Irregulars, working in remote places with little direct authority, acting out their fantasies with more freedom than most men ever know.

She was neither white nor black, Fyre nor Aquanite; she was a dame of the White King, and it was up to her, and her alone, to choose what path her life would take.

So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future.

Some adventures require nothing more than a willing heart and the ability to trip over the cracks in the world.

Something must be radically wrong with a culture and a civilisation when its youth begins to desert it. Youth is the natural time for revolt, for experiment, for a generous idealism that is eager for action. Any civilisation which has the wisdom of self-preservation will allow a certain margin of freedom for the expression of this youthful mood. But the plain, unpalatable fact is that in America today that margin of freedom has been reduced to the vanishing point. Rebellious youth is not wanted here. In our environment there is nothing to challenge our young men; there is no flexibility, no colour, no possibility for adventure, no chance to shape events more generously than is permitted under the rules of highly organised looting. All our institutional life combines for the common purpose of blackjacking our youth into the acceptance of the status quo; and not acceptance of it merely, but rather its glorification.

Something emerged from the air and slumped on the concrete floor behind Mosquera. The men near the table recoiled in horror. One gasped and stepped backwards, falling over a chair with a crash. Two others crossed themselves. Lock moved the fly so he could see past Mosquera. His blood ran cold. The lumpy mass on the floor looked as though the Devil himself had grabbed Miguel, squashed and scrambled his skin, muscles and bones, and dropped the mess back on the concrete. Like everybody else in the room, Lock was in shock. People didn’t die in teleportation, but the evidence was in front of him. What on earth had Mosquera used?

Some stories can only be appreciated by the storyteller Some adventures can only be preserved in the heart of the adventurer.

Something can be very funny and then suddenly very terrifying-very exciting, and suddenly very ridiculous. I think that’s what life is like, that’s what interests me.

Sometimes​ ​in​ ​business,​ ​you​ ​get​ ​a​ ​whack​ ​on​ ​the​ ​side​ ​of​ ​the​ ​head,​ ​sometimes​ ​a​ ​gentle nudge​ ​out​ ​of​ ​your​ ​comfort​ ​zone.​ ​Either​ ​can​ ​be​ ​a​ ​blessing​ ​in​ ​disguise.

Sometimes it takes a little madness to fulfill great things.

Something in this meadow and places like it, humble and hidden, offers respite and moments of calm for the wild, adventurous soul that plagues the boys of the world, the wanderer's soul that gnaws and aches inside of them even unto gray manhood. It is the plague of horizons, the plague of the next river bend, the plague that drives men over the vast oceans into strange lands beyond the edges of the maps.

Sometimes the more you try to focus on something, the less you really see it's beauty. - Burnum (Aboriginal Guide)

Sometimes to change a situation you are in requires you to take a giant leap. But, you won't be able to fly unless you are willing to transform.

Sometimes things need shaking up. You’ve got to test the limits.

Sometimes, the only way to solve your problems in life, the only way to conquer your fears, is if you face them. If you face your problems, they just flee. But if you flee instead, run away from them, they only get bigger, and they can totally destroy you.

Sometimes trying to get to the Other Side would get you nowhere; sometimes you had to bet on the sid you were already on.

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

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

Sometimes we have to try on a few different personalities before we found ourselves.

Sometime we don't always get what we want!" shouted Evie, not knowing herself. "That's life!"... The Captain, still looking at her, raised his eyebrows in surprise. He was proud of her for being brave enough to shout at (the villain), but he said softly to her, "Usually men with knives at your friend's neck get what they want, Evelyn.

Some will say that searching for your dreams is like looking for unicorns in an emerald forest.