Best 153 quotes in «wanderlust quotes» category

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    After two stories, I blew out my light. The night was clear. My ceiling was the sky and an eyelash of the moon. By shifting from side to side, I made my hammock swing me into sleep.

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    ... a certain kind of wanderlust can only be assuaged by the acts of the body itself in motion, not the motion of the car, boat, or plane.

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    Alone in the car with my social life all before and behind me, I was suspended in the beautiful solitude of the open road, in a kind of introspection that only outdoor space generates, for inside and outside are more intertwined than the usual distinctions allow. The emotion stirred by the landscape is piercing, a joy close to pain when the blue is deepest on the horizon or the clouds are doing those spectacular fleeting things so much easier to recall than to describe.

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    All cultures teem with creativity, on display both via inconceivable monuments and in the flawless blend of two spices. I want to see the birthplace of all of it, the homes of humble geniuses who make our lives better, more interesting.

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    All night, after the exhausting games of canasta, we would look over the immense sea, full of white-flecked and green reflections, the two of us leaning side by side on the railing, each of us far away, flying in his own aircraft to the stratospheric regions of his own dreams. There we understood that our vocation, our true vocation, was to move for eternity along the roads and seas of the world. Always curious, looking into everything that came before our eyes, sniffing out each corner but only ever faintly--not setting down roots in any land or staying long enough to see the substratum of things the outer limits would suffice.

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    An ardent desire to go took possession of me once more. Not because I wanted to leave - I was quite all right on this Cretan coast, and felt happy and free there and I needed nothing - but because I have always been consumed with one desire; to touch and see as much as possible of the earth and the sea before I die.

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    Am I making something worth while? I’m not sure. I write and I sing and I hear words from time to time about my life and choices making ways, into other lives, other hearts, but am I making something worth while? I’m not sure. There was a boy last night who I never spoke to because I was too drunk and still shy, but mostly lonely, and I couldn’t find anything lightly to say, so I simply walked away but still wondered what he did with his life because he didn’t even speak to me or look at me but still made me wonder who he was and I walked away asking Am I making something worth while? I am not sure. I am a complicated person with a simple life and I am the reason for everything that ever happened to me.

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    And even if our hearts collided Can I trust it to be what I've always dreamed... No dear, it'll be so much more.

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    And if travel is like love, it is, in the end, mostly because it’s a heightened state of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, in dimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed. That is why the best trips, like the best love affairs, never really end.

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    A wave of saudade swept over me as I realized home never existed at all. The concept of home felt far from my reach, and I felt sick with longing.

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    and we laugh and laugh and all I know is at this moment I feel like I can do anything I want and be anyone I want and go anywhere on the globe and still call it home

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    And you must not worry about me. You must follow your dreams. You have your life ahead of you. I am just a wanderer passing by.

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    At some point, you just gotta forgive the past, your happiness hinges on it.

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    A woman must prefer her liberty over a man. To be happy, she must. A man to be happy, however, must yearn for his woman more than his liberty. This is the rightful order.

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    Be a team player, not a bandwagon jumper.

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    Being the people we are, and feeling the way that we do, getting excited about going somewhere new can be terrifying. Of course it is, I get it! But if you don’t travel, you’ll regret it. Your soul will forever be empty.

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    Don't know. Don't care. I'm hopping on a bus and going until I can't go any farther. Until I find a place that feels like home.' He's quiet for a long time. 'How will you know what home feels like?' It hangs in the air between us, as frozen as our breaths. I don't have an answer.

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    Building bridges is the best defence against ignorance.

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    Consulting maps can diminish the wanderlust that they awaken,as the act of looking at them can replace the act of travel. But looking at maps is much more than an act of aesthetic replacement. Anyone who opens an atlas wants everything at once, without limits--the whole world. This longing will always be great, far greater than any satisfaction to be had by attaining what is desired. Give me an atlas over a guidebook any day. There is no more poetic book in the world.

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    Everything looks different. The houses are all these wild colors. The light is strange. It smells primeval. You're on Mars." "You are talking about driving?" Lin attempted to clarify. "About wanderlust," she answered.

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    Drifting across the vast space, silent except for wind and footsteps, I felt uncluttered and unhurried for the first time in a while, already on desert time.

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    Embrace all emotions: sadness, happiness, sorrow, hate, love, prejudice, fear; they are weapons against our greatest enemy: indifference.

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    Everytime I share Jesus Christ, I feel like a superhero!

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    Explore, Experience, Then Push Beyond.

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    Fantasy like thought that no man could rain Just let her reign Run wild with her unafraid Of any rain storms They only wash the mud away and make way For double rainbows and sunny days

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    He was the organised traveller type. The type that has to know the top ten tourist spots in a country and the five best ways to get to them.

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    For Courtney’s whole life, seeing the world had only been a dream, but now, as Adrian Diamond’s daughter, it could be a reality.

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    For many years, I have been moved by the blue at the far edge of what can be seen, that color of horizons, of remote mountain ranges, of anything far away. The color of that distance is the color of an emotion, the color of solitude and of desire, the color of there seen from here, the color of where you are not. And the color of where you can never go. For the blue is not in the place those miles away at the horizon, but in the atmospheric distance between you and the mountains. “Longing,” says the poet Robert Hass, “because desire is full of endless distances.” Blue is the color of longing for the distances you never arrive in, for the blue world.

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    For you, I do morning price.

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    From centuries ago before the dawn of civilization, I have been wandering. I am the wanderer. I can't stay at one place. I am destined to wander from place to place! And I keep wandering in search of a nothingness. The river embraces me and guides me to swim inside her and to drink the nectar of love from her bosom. She tells me her secrets and I tell her mine. She makes me sensitive and soft. The mountain greets me with respect and guides me to traverse the rocks and crevices of its body! He is strong and vigorous and he appreciates my stamina and toughness. After dusk in the night, the stars smile at me and they show me light to travel in the darkness. They tell me their stories and I tell them mine. The moon embalms me with her love and she kisses me good night. The nightingale sings her song of love when I take rest in the arms of darkness in the night! And after the dawn of the morning, the sun greets me and acknowledges my spirit and strength! I am the wanderer and I keep wandering in search of a nothingness. I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny!

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    He pointed out to him the bearings of the coast, explained to him the variations of the compass, and taught him to read in that vast book opened over our heads which they call heaven, and where God writes in azure with letters of diamonds.

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    He said what nobody understood was, she always felt like a bird in a cage--she wanted to be without roots.

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    I am a world of uncertainties disguised as a girl.

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    Home.” This was my mantra, my four-letter savior.

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    How you live your life is up to you. You have to go out and grab the world by the horns. Rope it before it ties you down and decides for you.

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    I am an artist, my hair is rarely tamed & sometimes I sleep till noon, My house is messy and I speak to the moon. I care less about the materials that I share with my world and more about the passion inside myself. Im an artist, what more can you expect? i am full of soul, love and all the rest.

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    I began to need my trips like other people need religion.

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    I am running and singing and when it’s raining I’m the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it’s cleaning me. I’m the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I’m the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I’ve made of myself.

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    I am tired of safe places, and roofs, and walls around me.

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    I built my home in the feeling of waking up at dawn in a new city, where every road is the right road because there is no ordinary. Everything is as profound as you make it.

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    I do not think I was made to help people." "And what were you made to do?" "To wander.

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    I copied the address into my address book, erasing an earlier one that had not been good for very long. No address of his was good for very long and the paper in my address book where his address is written is thin and soft from being erased so often.

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    I could give up, it's the easiest option But what would I achieve? Many sleepless nights holding regret Of all I didn't seek, That option will never exist to me; My dreams are far too real, Down the hard road I find My place in the world; the closest To home Ill ever feel.

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    I don't know where I am going, I just know I had to leave. Everything I was I carry with me, everything I will be lies waiting on the road ahead.

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    I ease into the idea of letting go of control and simply let life take the reins. And when I don't hold it so tightly, it doesn't thrash against me so wildly. It calms to a trot and allows me to take in the scenery, experience love, and learn what is important in this world: people, places, memories—not things or perceptions.

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    i dont live in a fantasy; just a dream, that's to hard for some to believe.

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    If we were meant to stay in one place, we would have roots instead of feet.

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    I felt Nairobi's foreignness — or really, my own foreignness in relation to it — immediately, even in the first strains of morning. It's a sensation I've come to love as I've traveled more, the way a new place signals itself instantly and without pretense. The air has a different weight from what you're used to; it carries smells you can't quite identify, a faint whiff of wood smoke or diesel fuel, maybe, or the sweetness of something blooming in the trees. The same sun comes up, but looking slightly different from what you know.

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    If somebody tells you there's a rule, break it.

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    If you could sail off today, where would you go?" She set aside her lead as she thought about his question. Her face took on a dreamy quality, and her answer, when it came, did not surprise him. "I would go everywhere.