Best 80 quotes in «roads quotes» category

All your life, you will always encounter two roads: One is easy, other one is difficult! One is flat, other one is steep! For glory and honor and for real success, choose the hard road!

All the beautiful roads are infinite because beauty gives us the feeling of infinity!

A good book and a smooth road are similar: you’d always love to pass through them over and over again. ~Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

And then there are roads that can't be walked back.

... and it was quite a sad thing, the way I watched you sleep like nothing could go wrong and I did not want to harm it, I did not want to blur it, but how could I not when everything I’ve ever known has slowly gone away and I know by now that that’s the way you let the new day in with new roads and views and chances to grow but it was quite a sad thing because I don’t want this to ever become ’then’ or ’was’ and it was quite an unfamiliar thing. The way I took off my shoes again, put down my bag and quietly went back to bed, slowly between the sheets of moments I don’t want to leave and it was quite a beautiful thing the way you had no idea but still must have known because you did not even open your eyes, but turned around and took my hand and you were still asleep, breathing in and out like nothing could go wrong, but still held my hand like you were glad I didn’t leave. ’Thank you for staying’ and it was quite a wonderful thing, the way I smiled and so did you, sound asleep, and that’s all I need to know for now. That’s all I want to know for now.

All the roads you regret for not going to the end represent the alternative lives you have missed!

As many roads down as up, and the roads down as slippery as the others.

And the roads called us to take the walk.

And the roads beckoned us to wander...

As we must always remember, the most important freight that a road carries may be neither household goods, nor livestock, nor munitions of war—but ideas!

But who would build the roads if there were no government? You mean to tell me that 300 million people in this country and 7 billion people on the planet would just sit around in their houses and think “Gee, I’d like to go visit Fred, but I can't because there isn’t a flat thing outside for me to drive on, and I don’t know how to build it and the other 300 million or 7 billion people can’t possibly do it because there aren’t any politicians and tax collectors. If they were here then we could do it. If they were here to boss us around and steal our money and really inefficiently build the flat places, then we would be set. Then I would be comfortable and confident that I could get places. But I can’t go to Fred’s house or the market because we can’t possibly build a flat space from A to B. We can make these really small devices that enable us to contact people from all over the word that fits in our pockets; we can make machines that we drive around in, but no, we can’t possibly build a flat space.

Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road. There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom- apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals. In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the 'Mittel Land' ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillside like tongues of flame. The road was rugged, but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. I could not understand then what the haste meant, but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. I was told that this road is in summertime excellent, but that it had not been put in order after the winter snows. In this respect it is different from the general run of roads in the Carpathians, for it is an old tradition that they are not to be kept in too good order. Of old the Hospadors would not repair them, lest the Turks should think that they were preparing to bring in foreign troops, and so hasten the war which was always really at loading point. Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colors of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly. Here and there seemed mighty rifts in the mountains, through which, as the sun began to sink, we saw now and again the white gleam of falling water.

Consider the road, long and forked as the Devil’s own tongue. Consider the Devil, burning every bridge; Placing in every tree a black bird. In every bird a black thought.

But how many chose to ignore the direct attack they laid on what is fed to all of us as 'life,' with its well-defined roads to factory and pool-hall, to work and pleasure, both organized, both shells, both a continuation of existence by forced means, in the shadow of life?

Byproduct of the circulation of commodities, human circulation considered as a form of consumption, tourism comes down fundamentally to the freedom to go and see what has become banal. The economic planning of the frequenting of different places is already in itself the guarantee of their equivalence. The same modernization that has withdrawn the element of time from journeying, has also withdrawn the reality of space.

Entrepreneurs pay the price of a road less traveled, while everyone else takes the freeway and perpetually misses their own exit.

Fate isn't a straight road," I said, becoming the oracle that earlier in the day I had declined to be for her. "There are forks in it, many different routes to different ends. We have the free will to choose the path.

Foggy road is a blessing because it is full of surprises and life is such a road! We are incredibly lucky that we all have an unknowable future!

Florida is full of long-range, unending road jobs that break the backs, pocketbooks, and hearts of the roadside business. The primitive, inefficient, childlike Mexicans somehow manage to survey, engineer, and complete eighty miles of high-speed divided highway through raw mountains and across raging torrents in six months. But the big highway contractors in Florida take a year and a half turning fifteen miles of two-lane road across absolutely flat country into four-lane divided highway. The difference is in American know-how. It's know-how in the tax problems, and how to solve them. The State Road Department says a half-year contract will cost the State ten million, and a one-year contract will cost nine, and a year-and-a-half deadline will go for eight. Then Doakes can take on three or four big jobs simultaneously, and lease the equipment from a captive corporation. and listlessly move the equipment from job to job, and spread it out to gain the biggest profit. The only signs of frantic activity can be two or three men with cement brooms who look at first like scarecrows but, when watched carefully, can be perceived to move, much like the minute hand on a clock.

down unlit ,unmarked & forgotten roads of REASON & PURPOSE

Hard roads require will of steel!

He who claims to have travelled in the hard roads, let him show his shoes for the proof!

I am not yearning or seeking new beginnings, instead I make these endless roads my own. "April 23, 2002

I’d wasted too much time over the past twelve months considering how bad my life could get, but as I sat alone in the deserted hospital corridor, my very worst fears had never felt more real. Pete was fighting for his life, and there was every chance he could lose.

If a road ends, that creates a great opportunity to develop new abilities to continue! Welcome every challenge in your life!

I do not choose the roads to travel;my destination does, apparently it is always the one less traveled.

If the road ahead is complicated, you will make it even more complicated when you panic! The calmer you are, the simpler the world will be!

If you are unable to reach a person you must know that this happens not because that the roads are closed but because you don’t know the true paths to reach that person!

If you are a path-creator, you don’t need a path!

If you keep returning to the painful paths, may be because you find the painless paths painful and painful paths painless!

If you concentrate on the road too much, you will miss the view and when you do the opposite, you will miss the road! Life is an art of catching both the road and the view!

I delve into the mysterious and counterintuitive world of helmets and high-visibility gear later in the book. But it's worth immediately noting this: while they're not inherently bad, they're less a safety device for cycling than a symptom of a road network where no cyclist can truly feel safe.

In this universe nobody and nothing can know in which part of the road they are! At the beginning? At the middle? At the end? Because end can happen at any time, the beginning of the road can be the end of the road as well. Or maybe the middle is the end! Besides, since everything is possible in this universe, end of the road may also disappear; end may turn into the endless!

...moderate social deviance or class non-conformism I have imputed to the first generation of pedestrians. Improved roads, after all, were one of the principal means by which the country was building a national communications network that would underpin the huge commercial and industrial expansion of the nineteenth century; changing the landscape of the country to produce the arterial interconnection of the modern state in place of a geography of more or less self-enclosed local communities; consolidating the administrative structures of the state and facilitating political hegemony over a rapidly growing and potentially unstable population; and promulgating a 'national' culture in the face of regional diversity and independence. With the main roads such powerful instruments of change, the walker's decision to exploit his freedom to resist the imperative of destination and explore instead by lanes, by-roads and fieldpaths, could well be interpreted as an act of denial, flight or dissent vis-a-vis the forces that were ineradicably transforming British society.

Lone rangers, that's what we are. We see the world with our naked eyes, unabashed of the greed and ego. Our mind resides on our tongue and we stand for what's right. A little too much fun, and an exciting package. Raving for life and exploring possibilities is our goal. Travel far and wide and into the wild, we will go for it someday. Care so much that even gods would bow down. Love to the hilt and then let go, coz that's what this life is meant for. One life and we will live up to the hilt and leave no regrets. So, when we land into our graves with a satisfied smile, we big farewell to the meanness of this so-called universe. With every journey there is a new lesson learned, every place traveled, explored; makes us in fall in love with the earth. Care less about our whereabouts; we keep the expedition going because we want to go far beyond the civilized, beyond the living, beyond the world of predictability, beyond u and I & into the wild. Feasting the eyes, rejuvenating the senses, every breath we take is a sigh of relief and we make peace. Choosing the roads less traveled, our wandering souls makes our way towards the unknown destination not only to discover ourselves but to discover the wild, nature and the mother earth.

Nothing belongs to itself anymore. These trees are yours because you once looked at them. These streets are yours because you once traversed them. These coffee shops and bookshops, these cafés and bars, their sole owner is you. They gave themselves so willingly, surrendering to your perfume. You sang with the birds and they stopped to listen to you. You smiled at the sheepish stars and they fell into your hair. The sun and moon, the sea and mountain, they have all left from heartbreak. Nothing belongs to itself anymore. You once spoke to Him, and then God became yours. He sits with us in darkness now to plot how to make you ours.” K.K.

Pretentious quotations [are] the surest road to tedium.

Roads that provide rapid ascent to high altitudes should be clearly marked with the appropriate warning signs detailing the altitude disease risks.

Love not your dream but the road leading to it and you might still fail, but you shall definitely end up enjoying every moment of your life.

May be the road you travel doesn’t give you the beautiful fate you have always dreamed off! Stop and change the road, no matter how difficult it may be!

Never depend on a road, depend on your strides

Okay, little car, you are protesting roads. They are death traps for animals. They are environmentally unsound impervious surfaces that cause runoff. I understand this. But could we protest in the summer?

Sometimes we feel only one thing about a road: We must travel on that road at all costs! We know deep in our heart that that path is our path of dreams!

Safe roads are the bones of civilization.

Start your journey where the road ends! Glory lies beyond the ends!

Some roads push you to look for new roads, some roads make you forget all the other roads entirely! Always try to travel on the latter roads!

Some roads are covered with flower. Some hearts are full with kindness.

Some roads, some stairs, some problems may seem to you infinite! Take a step into that infinity; you will see that infinity will suddenly shrink!

Success can locate and visit you even if you are static wherever you are... But you are responsible for constructing the roads... Go, make the roads!

Stop telling me not to burn bridges. Some bridges are meant to be burnt, some roads are never meant to be traveled again.