Karen, her elbows folded on the deck-rail, wanted to share with someone the pleasure in being alone: this is the paradox of any happy solitude. She had never landed at Cork, so this hill and that hill beyond were as unexpected as pictures at which you say "Oh look! " Nobody was beside her to share the moment, which would have been imperfect with anyone else there. Elizabeth Bowen
Augustus, " I said. "Really. You don't have to do this."" Sure I do, " he said. "I found my Wish.""God, you're the best, " I told him." I bet you say that to all the boys who finance your international travel, " he answered.
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John Green
Cities were always like people, showing their varying personalities to the traveler. Depending on the city and on the traveler, there might begin a mutual love, or dislike, friendship, or enmity. Where one city will rise a certain individual to glory, it will destroy another...
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Roman Payne
We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers will accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can, in our ignorance and knowledge,...
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Pico Iyer
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.
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Charlotte Eriksson
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.
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Lao Tzu
More Quotes By Elizabeth Bowen
A romantic man often feels more uplifted with two women than with one: his love seems to hit the ideal mark somewhere between two different faces.
If they should only be ill, ' she said, 'there would be so many little things we could do for them. It does seem in a kind of a way an opportunity. I often think it is only when a man is ill that he...
Livvy noted there seemed some communal feeling between the married: any wife could be faintly rude to anyone else's husband.
Karen, her elbows folded on the deck-rail, wanted to share with someone the pleasure in being alone: this is the paradox of any happy solitude. She had never landed at Cork, so this hill and that hill beyond were as unexpected as pictures at which...
And because no one answered or cared and a conversation went on without her she felt profoundly lonely, suspecting once more for herself a particular doom of exclusion. Something of the trees in their intimacy of shadow was shared by the husband and wife and...
