Best 105 quotes in «wandering quotes» category

Never stop wandering into wonder.

No reprimand in the mirror Slow walk to Liberia Slow dance across the Sahara Slow unraveling of gray matter

Now that I am past picking the knife to stab one, the reward of stabbing a few more comes at an unfairly lower risk!

Ô, Muse of the Heart’s Passion, let me relive my Love’s memory, to remember her body, so brave and so free, and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me, and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me, Ô, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent. When she came to my bed and begged me with sighs not to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise, I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes, then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise. While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fine I devoured her mouth, tender lips divine; and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine. Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.

Oh Kabira, where are you going? Are you going away again? Have you forsaken your true love? Have you forgotten your own own words? The night will never end And the stars will keep on shining Are you going to be sad, forever? Are you going to be a wanderer, forever? You will never find sleep in your eyes Because your mind keeps on drifting If you keep on this drifting You will never sleep in your life For some people life means drifting Wandering from place to place They hitch-hike and walk Traveling on the endless road of Life Oh Kabira, where are you going? Are you going away again? Have you forsaken your true love? Have you forgotten your own words?

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.

Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.

Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess When did you feel your most euphoric kiss? Was I the source of your greatest bliss?

She is sensitive. She is tender. And she needs you to stay. But you are a wanderer. You have spent days and nights in loneliness. And you have become addicted to your loneliness.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she was a bit like a cat herself, forever wandering in the woods, chasing after squirrels and rabbits as fast as her skinny legs could take her when the fancy struck, climbing trees like a possum, able to doze in the sun at a moment's notice. And sometimes with no notice at all.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she was a bit like a cat herself, forever wandering in the woods, chasing after squirrels and rabbits as fast as her skinny legs could take her when the fancy struck, climbing trees like a possum, able to doze in the sun at a moment's notice. And sometimes with no notice at all. (This text is originally from A Circle of Cats, which was revised and re-adapted by the author for The Cats of Tanglewood Forest)

She is my morning, she is my evening; we have a love that blooms over and again, more beautifully each time than the last.

She liked then to wander alone into strange and unfamiliar places. She discovered many a sunny, sleepy corner, fashioned to dream in.

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.

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 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: So where do we go from here? He: Nowhere! She: What do you mean? He: You go your way and I mine! She: Can we have a future together? He: I don't settle down! I am the wanderer and wandering is my destiny!

She was no better than the shells by her feet, tumbling this way and that at the beck and call of the waves.

She was a free bird: queen of the world and laughing.

Some moments drift and some moments make us drift!

So many people live life without knowing the life they are living. We must get a reasonable reason for living

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.

Sometimes I wonder if it does exist such a thing called personality.

Some of us are drawn to mountains the way the moon draws the tide. Both the great forests and the mountains live in my bones. They have taught me, humbled me, purified me and changed me.

The destiny of every walking man is to immerse himself in the panorama surrounding him, to the point of becoming one with it and, ultimately, to vanish".

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!

Summer is leaving silently. Much like a traveler approaching the end of an amazing journey.

... 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.

Visions from the gods are gifts alone for those who wander.

Well, at least this is what I told myself every day as I fell asleep with the fire still burning and the moon shining high up in the sky and my head spinning comforting from two bottles of wine, and I smiled with tears in my eyes because it was beautiful and so god damn sad and I did not know how to be one of those without the other.

There is a period near the beginning of every man's life when he has little to cling to except his unmanageable dreams, little to support him except good health, and nowhere to go but all over the place by E. B. White

There is no sweeter pleasure than wandering aimlessly about.

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.

We show our animal nature by not living for the future, and our human nature by not living in the present.

Walking on a path of uncertainties, Shuffling on the probabilities of uncertainties, Waging on the possibilities of uncertainties, Waiting for the occurrences of uncertainties, Solving the mysteries of wandering uncertainties, We move, lead and live.

When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

When Beauty evokes an ethereal, colourful art,as it paints a material or a body,to render an Earthly wish,as its mesmerizing shapes give a fanciful glow for the smile lost Poetic hearts,ah! yet wonder,how we wander high!

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.

When travelling, concentrate on the path! Don’t sleep! Don’t read! Just live the journey in full by observing the path instead of wandering in your own world!

What we seek when we wander usually leads us back home.

When you give yourself to places, they give you yourself back; the more one comes to know them, the more one seeds them with the invisible crop of memories and associations that will be waiting for when you come back, while new places offer up new thoughts, new possibilities. Exploring the world is one the best ways of exploring the mind, and walking travels both terrains.

When no possessions keep us, when no countries contain us, and no time detains us, man becomes a heroic wanderer, and woman, a wanderess.

When you wander in an empty silent street, you wander within the mind of wisdom!

Where are we headed? Are we not endlessly plunging —backwards, sideways, forwards, in all directions? Is there an up and a down anymore? Do we not wander as if through an endless nothingness? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Hasn’t it grown colder?

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?

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.

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.

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.