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Traveler Quotes

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Traveler Quotes

“Still he considered playing Pachinko the best investment of his free time, soaking in the local stench and bad breathe of other lonely Japanese people as an alternative way of blending into the colorful local scenes which he yearned to be a part of.”

“She had been a storm that didn't move roofs, but she'd spent a year watching storms that did. Instead of striking off on her own, as she'd always done, she decided to learn to listen. In spring, she went to Eilean Glan, and she listened to the old queen teach girls to heal. In summer, she went to Ardbarrach, and as the bells rang, she listened to the value of order. In fall, she returned home long enough for her mother to prepare for the journey, and then, as they rode around a new and fragile Scotland, she listened to her mother talk about peace. In winter, she returned to DunBroch to think about all she had learned over the long, dark season.”

“His action of joining them, which would have been rude in a restaurant that was not moving at three hundred kilometers an hour, was perfectly acceptable on a train, which mimicked the entirely random joinings of life but revealed their true nature by making them last only hours or days, rather than years and decades. People on a train form an alliance, as if the world that surrounded the parallel rails were hostile and and they refugees from it. The dining car, humming and rocking gently in the night, annihilated past and future and made all associations outside of itself seem vaguely unreal. So they welcomed him at their table, for he was one of them, a traveler, not one of those wraiths through whose night-lit cities they passed.”

“As you journey along with Sufi Way, you will experience the knowledge that the apparent world is indeed just that: apparent. The Traveler will reach a stage in which the apparent world is temporarily dissolved or seen through. However, the stage where this is experienced is an area where many seekers of Truth are stuck. As the apparent world is experienced to be an illusion, other explanations, reality-maps, entities, and worlds rush in to fill the void and present themselves as how things actually are. These alternative explanations and so forth, are no more The Real (and no less more, that matter) than is the apparent world that they help to expose as illusion.”

“For the canny traveler, the map is dotted with tourist traps that were once something sincere, something worthy of reverence that gave way to branded merchandise. We follow the billboards that are as accurate as those guiding us to the Corn Palace or the World’s Largest Ball of Twine, kick at the dirt a bit, watch an overinflated PowerPoint or squint at a dusty artifact, peek at the gift shop, and go home with less money but nothing in value gained. These sites are mental stamps that one was in a place where something had once mattered, but the veil between Then and Now is thick and impermeable.”

“I am a wanderer— born with restless feet and a heart that refuses maps. I walk through cities that forget my name, through villages that remember my silence. I carry no luggage, only memories stitched into my soul. The road is my lover, the horizon my only promise. One day I will stop. Not because I am tired— but because I have become the place I was searching for”

“Gently, Auntie Zee said, “I am a traveler cat.” “A what?” Jack asked. Calisa was grateful to him for voicing the question. She had so many battering through her skull that it felt like she couldn’t speak. “It is a type of witch. Very rare. I was born with the ability to open and close portals.” A witch. “And the cat part of it?” Now she was smiling more broadly. “It’s how a portal witch recovers her powers. I have to transform into a smaller body, specifically a cat. It allows the magic to replenish— there’s less energy required to keep a smaller body alive. As for why a cat… I suppose the universe has a sense of humor. Cats are known for always being on the wrong side of every door.”

“A Musafir in life today I am here on this side of the border tomorrow I will be there on the other side. Searching for meaning with my pen and journal in my bag, I keep drifting from here to there and from there to here A Musafir in life there is no final home for me no final destination awaits me To keep on traveling is my life's story To keep on searching is my life's purpose”

“We drove to the ocean and smoked cigarettes until six in the morning when I fell asleep on your chest. When you woke up I was gone and you went back to yours, and I keep having my best conversations while the world is asleep, trying to find myself somewhere between dawn and the sunrise. Dear universe, may I never find myself.”

“A writer's life is different from the life of a normal man's life. A writer cannot settle down at one place. He has to keep traveling and drifting from one place to another. Because his travels give meaning and substance to his stories and poetry, he must keep on traveling. The people he meets and the places he visits, give unique perspectives to him to think, reflect and write about. A writer does not belong to one village, one city, one town, or one country. A writer belongs to the world.”

“On our way to the hotel, the pleasure of looking at boundless turquoise water surfaces was diluted by seeing a scary and very large military boat, floating by with marine solders on board and carrying real arms and guns! Our jaws fell; we watched them as if we were hypnotized, while the marines watched us too, with serious expressions on their sunburned faces.”

“This was really something to experience: free restaurant menu of our choice, smiling and caring assistants who looked like Hollywood stars, warm blankets to cover our feet during the journey, personal video screens, lovely presents… every little thing was taken into account for our personal convenience. Any celebrity would be pleased with this type of service! It was an unforgettable flight—another shock during this holiday, and this time a pleasant one.”

“you and i belong to this city this city which we both love this city of stupa and chanting of temple and arati of church and hymn of masjid and namaz of gurudwara and gurbani this city of love and affection this city of culture and tradition this city reaching for a modern sky yet its roots deep and ancient! you and i belong to this city this city which we both love.”