"wanderer"タグの名言

There’s something about arriving in new cities, wandering empty streets with no destination. I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I'm born to leave.

She had a wild, wandering soul but when she loved, she loved with chaos and that made all the difference.

None of your knowledge, your reading, your connections will be of any use here: two legs suffice, and big eyes to see with. Walk alone, across mountains or through forests. You are nobody to the hills or the thick boughs heavy with greenery. You are no longer a role, or a status, not even an individual, but a body, a body that feels sharp stones on the paths, the caress of long grass and the freshness of the wind. When you walk, the world has neither present nor future: nothing but the cycle of mornings and evenings. Always the same thing to do all day: walk. But the walker who marvels while walking (the blue of the rocks in a July evening light, the silvery green of olive leaves at noon, the violet morning hills) has no past, no plans, no experience. He has within him the eternal child. While walking I am but a simple gaze.

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

She did not choose to become a wanderer. She did not take a conscious decision that she wants to become a wanderer. Destiny chose her to wander. And then she became a wanderer. The wanderings keep on happening on their own. And the wanderer keeps on wandering! The wanderer does not have a final home. She does not have a certain destination. She keeps on drifting from place to place. And wanderings become her destiny! And she becomes the wanderer!

I am a free soul, singing my heart out by myself no matter where I go and I call strangers my friends because I learn things and find ways to fit them into my own world. I hear what people say, rearrange it, take away and tear apart until it finds value in my reality and there I make it work. I find spaces in between the cracks and cuts where it feels empty and there I make it work.

Obedient to no man, dependent only on weather and season, without a goal before them or a roof above them, owning nothing, open to every whim of fate, the homeless wanderers lead their childlike, brave, shabby existence. They are the sons of Adam, who was driven out of Paradise; the brothers of the animals, of innocence. Out of heaven's hand they accept what is given them from moment to moment: sun, rain, fog, snow, warmth, cold, comfort, and hardship; time does not exist for them and neither does history, or ambition, or that bizarre idol called progress and evolution, in which houseowners believe so desperately. A wayfarer may be delicate or crude, artful or awkward, brave or cowardly—he is always a child at heart, living in the first day of creation, before the beginning of the history of the world, his life always guided by a few simple instincts and needs. He may be intelligent or stupid; he may be deeply aware of the fleeting fragility of all living things, of how pettily and fearfully each living creature carries its bit of warm blood through the glaciers of cosmic space, or he may merely follow the commands of his poor stomach with childlike greed—he is always the opponent, the deadly enemy of the established proprietor, who hates him, despises him, or fears him, because he does not wish to be reminded that all existence is transitory, that life is constantly wilting, that merciless icy death fills the cosmos all around.

I enjoy the wild things, Call me at 3 am and tell me you're waiting at my door. Give me sunsets in different cities and road trips on dirt tracks not sighted on maps. Whiskey for breakfast & cheap thrills for dinner. Give me happiness in a smile and nothing of certainty but the way we make eachother feel. There so much life in living while you're alive & id give absolutely anything to have it all with you.

What is a Wanderess? Bound by no boundaries, contained by no countries, tamed by no time, she is the force of nature’s course.

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.

she was completely whole and yet never fully complete

Let there be room left in your heart for the unimaginable ~ serendipity has a way of showing itself just when you feel like giving up.

i was lieing to myself when I thought I was lost, I have never been lost - I just wasn't ready to be found.

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!

You are a wanderer. You have spent days and nights in loneliness. And somehow you have got addicted to your loneliness. And one day you meet someone and you feel as if you have known them all your life. It's like you both are just continuing from where you had left a long time ago. And the silences between you, too have meaning!

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!

A pilgrim is a wanderer with a purpose.