Mere moments after stepping foot on French soil Pierre was leaving again. He had left the UK on a French passport identifying him as a 'Guillaume Racine'. The name existed only on that passport, the passenger manifest for the journey, and a prepaid Visa with which he had paid. Both the card and the passport would be shredded shortly.
The perfect weather that had allowed us to get the oats and corn in ahead of time probably also contributed to the dearth of migrating warblers. With no storms to force the birds down, they overflew this area on their northward journey. At least I hope that is the reason. I fear, though, that the cutting down of the tropical rain forests (the winter home for many warblers) to create ranches that will provide cheap beef for fast-food restaurants in the United States may also be partly responsible for the dearth.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
The day on which a journey is begun is half the journey done.
Life is the jailer of the soul in this filthy prison, and its only deliverer is death. What we call life is a journey to death, and what we call death is a passport to life.
The following historical incident is related by Arab authors as the highest example of faithfulness to trust. Al-Samau'al (Samuel) was the emir of a Jewish tribe in Southern Arabia, shortly before the time of Mohammed. A friend of his, before setting out on a journey, left with him some very fine mailed armour. This friend was killed in a battle, and one of the kings of Syria demanded the arms. Al-Samau'al refused to give them up except to the rightful heir, and the king laid siege to him in one of his fortresses. One day his son fell into the hands of the enemy, and the king threatened to kill him if the arms were not given up. Again he refused, and from the turrets of the castle saw his son put to death. The siege was soon after raised, and the arms were delivered to the heirs of his friend.
Who, if he is honest towards himself, could say that the religion of his manhood was the same as that of his childhood, or the religion of his old age the same as the religion of his manhood? It is easy to deceive ourselves, and to say that the most perfect faith is a childlike faith. Nothing can be truer, and the older we grow the more we learn to understand the wisdom of a childlike faith. But before we can learn that, we have first to learn another lesson, namely, to put away childish things. There is the same glow about the setting sun as there is about the rising sun; but there lies between the two a whole world, a journey through the whole sky, and over the whole earth.
We accustom ourselves so easily to life as a second nature, and in spite of the graves around us, death remains something unnatural, hard and terrifying. That should not be. An early death is terrifying, but as we grow older our thoughts should accustom themselves to passing away at the end of a long life's journey. All is so beautiful, so good, so wisely ordered, that even death can be nothing hard, nothing disturbing; it all belongs to a great plan, which we do not understand, but of which we know that it is wiser than all wisdom, better than all good, that it cannot be otherwise, cannot be better. In faith we can live and we can die--can even see those go before us who came before us, and whom we must follow. All is not according to our will, to our wisdom, but according to a heavenly will, and those who have once found each other through God's hand will, clinging to His hand, find each other again.
If them art rich, thou art poor; / For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows, / Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, / And death unloads thee.
La mort ne surprend point le sage; / Il est toujours pret a partir, / S'etant su lui-meme avertir / Du temps ou l'on se doit resoudre a ce passage=--Death is no surprise to the wise man; he is always ready to depart, having learnt to anticipate the time when he must make up his mind to take this last journey.
_King and tyrant._--I too will have my secret thoughts. I will take care on every journey.
There was sadness in being a man, but it was a proud thing too. And he showed what the pride of it was till you couldn't help feeling it. Yes, even in hell, if a man was a man, you'd know it. And he wasn't pleading for any one person any more, though his voice rang like an organ. He was telling the story and the failures and the endless journey of mankind. They got tricked and trapped and bamboozled, but it was a great journey. And no demon that was ever foaled could know the inwardness of it — it took a man to do that. … His voice could search the heart, and that was his gift and his strength. And to one, his voice was like the forest and its secrecy, and to another like the sea and the storms of the sea; and one heard the cry of his lost nation in it, and another saw a little harmless scene he hadn't remembered for years. But each saw something. And when Dan'l Webster finished he didn't know whether or not he'd saved Jabez Stone. But he knew he'd done a miracle. For the glitter was gone from the eyes of the judge and jury, and, for the moment, they were men again, and knew they were men.
It is a great journey to life's end.
A man who takes away another man's freedom is a prisoner of hatred, he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else's freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity. When I walked out of prison, that was my mission, to liberate the oppressed and the oppressor both. Some say that has now been achieved. But I know that that is not the case. The truth is that we are not yet free; we have merely achieved the freedom to be free, the right not to be oppressed. We have not taken the final step of our journey, but the first step on a longer and even more difficult road. For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others. The true test of our devotion to freedom is just beginning.
When you can have anything you want by uttering a few words, the goal matters not, only the journey to it.
Knowledge of my way is a good part of my journey.
Meat and matins hinder no man's journey.
There is a heaven at the end of every faithful Christian's journey.--_Cuyler._
You have everything needed for the extravagant journey that is your life.
Thou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey, / And death unloads thee.
Is this Journey? Are you grieving to Journey?
'Tis but a short journey across the isthmus of Now.--_Bovée._
If you take a book with you on a journey," Mo had said when he put the first one in her box, "an odd thing happens: The book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it... yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.
Philosophy is a good horse in a stable, but an arrant jade on a journey.
Sorrow is better than fear. Fear is a journey, a terrible journey. But, sorrow is at least an arriving.
Many caregivers share that they often feel alone, isolated, and unappreciated. Mindfulness can offer renewed hope for finding support and value for your role as a caregiver…It is an approach that everyone can use. It can help slow you down some so you can make the best possible decisions for your care recipient. It also helps bring more balance and ease while navigating the caregiving journey.
As the Italians say, Good company in a journey makes the way to seem the shorter.
A good story can take you on a fantastic journey.
Learning is a companion on a journey to a strange country.
This same philosophy is a good horse in the stable, but an arrant jade on a journey.
"They order," said I, "this matter better in France."
When one stands amid the grandeur of nature, with one's own little murmurings and sufferings, and looks deep into this dumb soul, much becomes clear to one, and one is astounded at the false ideas one has formed of this life. It is but a short journey, and on a journey one can do without many things which generally seem necessary to us. Yes, we can do without even what is dearest to our hearts, in this world, if we know that, after the journey we shall have to endure, we shall find again those who have arrived at the goal quicker and more easily than we have done. Now if life were looked upon as a journey for refreshment or amusement, which it ought not to be, we might feel sad if we have to make our way alone; but if we treat it as a serious business-journey, then we know we have hard and unpleasant work before us, and enjoy all the more the beautiful resting-places which God's love has provided for each of us in life.
But life is sweet, though all that makes it sweet Lessen like sound of friends' departing feet; And Death is beautiful as feet of friend Coming with welcome at our journey's end. For me Fate gave, whate'er she else denied, A nature sloping to the southern side; I thank her for it, though when clouds arise Such natures double-darken gloomy skies.
Whenever I see a new-married couple more than ordinarily fond before faces, I consider them as attempting to impose upon the company or themselves; either hating each other heartily, or consuming that stock of love in the beginning of their course which should serve them throughout their whole journey.
I always like to begin a journey on Sundays, because I shall have the prayers of the Church to preserve all that travel by land or by water.
In general, the more dysfunctional the family the more inappropriate their response to disclosure. Never expect a sane response from an insane system.
During a journey a man's character is weighed and revealed.
Whenever you find yourself worrying about the future, repent and return to Me. I will show you the next step forward, and the one after that, and the one after that. Relax and enjoy the journey in My Presence, trusting Me to open up the way before you as you go. The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law. DEUTERONOMY 29 : 29
Hell lies near, / Around us, as does heaven, and in the world, / Which is our Hades, still the chequered souls, / Compact of good and ill--not all accurst, / Nor altogether blest--a few brief years / Travel the little journey of their lives, / They know not to what end.
You should be thankful for the journey of life. You only make this journey once in your life time.
_Arab_. Son of shame, give me something for my journey, for I have decided to go.
The life of man is a journey; a journey that must be travelled, however bad the roads or the accommodation.
Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.
There is no formula to it because writing every song, for me, is a little journey... It's everything. It's the walk you take in the morning, it's the night before, the meeting with people, landscapes, the chats, all of that evolves in some way into melody, but I'm not sure how it's going to happen. I'm dealing with the unknown all the time and that is exciting.
We do not have to think that human nature is perfect for us to still believe that the human condition can be perfected. We do not have to live in an idealized world to still reach for those ideals that will make it a better place. The non-violence practiced by men like Gandhi and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love that they preached — their fundamental faith in human progress — that must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey. For if we lose that faith — if we dismiss it as silly or naïve; if we divorce it from the decisions that we make on issues of war and peace — then we lose what's best about humanity. We lose our sense of possibility. We lose our moral compass.
Bon voyage=--A pleasant journey or voyage.
If you want to know a man, make a solitary journey with him.
It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the journey that matters in the end.
It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end.
Joshua and Caleb listened silently as the two men outlined what they had found on their journey. Finally Ardon said, “Man for man we can beat them. They’re better trained than we are and our weapons aren’t quite as good, but they’re frightened to death of us.” “How do you know that?” “A woman named Rahab told us,” Othniel said. “They’ve heard about what God has done for us, and how we’ve destroyed our enemies.” “It’ll be different this time, though, master,” Ardon said. “That wall is unbelievable. It must have taken hundreds of years to build it. It’s broad enough to drive two chariots around side by side. Why, there are, as we said, houses on it.
At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it. After that, there remains only the journey itself, which is nothing but the process through which we lose our ownership of it.
Prayer and provender never hinder a journey.
whole Traveler gig in general. Why me? How come I was the lucky one who got to be the lead Traveler and match wits with Saint Dane? I’m not proud to admit this, but lately when my mind goes there, I get angry. Where before I’d been confused, frustrated, and scared, I now had to add anger to that list. I’m not even sure who to be angry at, which makes me even angrier! Who put me in this spot? Uncle Press? He definitely started me on the journey, but was it his choice to make me the lead Traveler? Or was he just following orders? That’s the big question. Who started this whole thing? Gunny’s theory is that there’s some big cheese out there who selected the Travelers and is running the show. I guess that’s possible, but I have no idea who it might be or how it could work. I’ve wondered about all this for a long time, of course, but like I said, lately the thought has been making me mad. Sure,
Success is a journey, not a destination. Ben Sweetland
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!
Not once or twice in our rough island-story, / The path of duty was the way to glory: / He that walks it, only thirsting / For the right, and learns to deaden / Love of self, before his journey closes / He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting / Into glossy purples, which outredden / All voluptuous garden-roses.
A book about a lady knight with purple eyes and a passion for justice—one of her few treasured possessions—lay near the window. So far she’d paid Amanda at the Green Inn twice to read it to her. It was that precious. With her mind made up to leave Vaneis, she packed the three dresses she owned, the scarf, the book, some herbs for soap mix, and thirty shillings for the road in her satchel. The next morning, she made sure to pay the innkeeper five shillings for her month's rent. She filled a small rucksack full of food for her journey and left the inn with a smile on her face. Once outside, Ciardis squinted, looking up and down the caravan line. There were six wagons attached to huraks – large, ponderous beasts that looked like oxen with claws. The huraks were all clearly anxious to go as they snorted and pawed the fresh snow with the three dagger-shaped claws on each foot. You and me both, friend. She clutched her two cloth bags and stared around for Lady Serena, trying not to seem too obvious. "All riders up!" rang the call down the line. Ciardis gave up her nonchalant look in favor of panic and began to search frantically. She didn't see Lady Serena anywhere. What if it had all been a cruel joke?
On a long journey even a straw is heavy.
An agreeable companion on a journey is as good as a carriage.
Despite all the things I would have changed about our journey, I’d never want a different destination. It’s always been you.
Who would venture upon the journey of life, if compelled to begin it at the end?--_Mme. de Maintenon._
I like to play any character that allows me the freedom to explore it and teach the audience something they didn't know, and show them a journey they identify with... or be inspired, or moved. Anything that touches someone's heart is important for me.
Books are the plane, and the train, and the road. They are the destination, and the journey. They are home.
The question is whether there is, or whether there is not, hidden in every one of the sacred books, something that could lift up the human heart from this earth to a higher world, something that could make man feel the omnipresence of a higher Power, something that could make him shrink from evil and incline to good, something to sustain him in the short journey through life, with its bright moments of happiness, and its long hours of terrible distress.
It were a journey like the path to heaven, To help you find them.
One month will go after another, till at last this journey is over, and we look back on it grateful for the many pleasures it has given us, grateful for the company of so many kind friends whom we met, grateful also for the struggles which we had to go through and which will appear so small, and so little worth our tears and anguish, when all is over and the last station and resting-place reached in safety.
What shapest thou here at the world; 'Tis shapen long ago; / The Maker shaped it, He thought it best even so. / Thy lot is appointed, go follow its hest; / Thy journey's begun, thou must move and not rest; / For sorrow and care cannot alter thy case, / And running, not raging, will win thee the race.
Imagination is a mettled horse that will break the rider's neck when a donkey would have carried him to the end of his journey, slow but sure.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Chinese proverb
How different life might be, if in our daily intercourse and conversation we thought of our friends as lying before us on the last bed of flowers--how differently we should then judge, and how differently we should act. All that is of the earth is then forgotten, all the little failings inherent in human nature vanish from our minds, and we only see what was good, unselfish, and loving in that soul, and we think with regret of how much more we might have done to requite that love. It is curious how forgetful we are of death, how little we think that we are dying daily, and that what we call life is really death, and death the beginning of a higher life. Such a thought should not make our life less bright, but rather more--it should make us feel how unimportant many things are which we consider all-important: how much we could bear which we think unbearable, if only we thought that to-morrow we ourselves or our friends may be taken away, at least for a time. You should think of death, should feel that what you call your own is only lent to you, and that all that remains as a real comfort is the good work done in this short journey, the true unselfish love shown to those whom God has given us, has placed near to us, not without a high purpose.
People who have, in a sense, asked Him to join them on their life journey, to follow them wherever they feel they should go, rather than following Him as we are commanded. The God of the universe is not something we can just add to our lives and keep on as we did before. The Spirit who raised Christ from the dead is not someone we can just call on when we want a little extra power in our lives. Jesus Christ did not die in order to follow us. He died and rose again so that we could forget everything else and follow Him to the cross, to true Life.
The longest part of the journey is said to be the passing of the gate. -- Marcus Terentius Varro
Nothing shortens a journey so pleasantly as an account of misfortunes at which the hearer is permitted to laugh. -- Quentin Crisp
A journey of a thousand miles starts under one's feet. -- Lao Tsu
An exotic journey in downtown Newark is in your future.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
Farewell we call to hearth and hall! Though wind may blow and rain may fall, We must away ere break of day Far over wood and mountain tall. To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell In glades beneath the misty fell, Through moor and waste we ride in haste, And whither then we cannot tell. With foes ahead, behind us dread, Beneath the sky shall be our bed, Until at last our toil be passed, Our journey done, our errand sped. We must away! We must away! We ride before the break of day! -- J. R. R. Tolkien
"As you journey through life take a minute every now and then to give a thought for the other fellow. He could be plotting something." -- Hagar the Horrible
A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. -- Lao Tsu
It would be illogical to kill without reason. -- Spock, "Journey to Babel", stardate 3842.4
A Severe Strain on the Credulity As a method of sending a missile to the higher, and even to the highest parts of the earth's atmospheric envelope, Professor Goddard's rocket is a practicable and therefore promising device. It is when one considers the multiple-charge rocket as a traveler to the moon that one begins to doubt... for after the rocket quits our air and really starts on its journey, its flight would be neither accelerated nor maintained by the explosion of the charges it then might have left. Professor Goddard, with his "chair" in Clark College and countenancing of the Smithsonian Institution, does not know the relation of action to re-action, and of the need to have something better than a vacuum against which to react... Of course he only seems to lack the knowledge ladled out daily in high schools. -- New York Times Editorial, 1920
Vulcans do not approve of violence. -- Spock, "Journey to Babel", stardate 3842.4
We thrive on euphemism. We call multi-megaton bombs "Peace-keepers", closet size apartments "efficient" and incomprehensible artworks "innovative". In fact, "euphemism" has become a euphemism for "bald-faced lie". And now, here are the euphemisms so colorfully employed in Personal Ads: EUPHEMISM REALITY ------------------- ------------------------- Excited about life's journey No concept of reality Spiritually evolved Oversensitive Moody Manic-depressive Soulful Quiet manic-depressive Poet Boring manic-depressive Sultry/Sensual Easy Uninhibited Lacking basic social skills Unaffected and earthy Slob and lacking basic social skills Irreverent Nasty and lacking basic social skills Very human Quasimodo's best friend Swarthy Sweaty even when cold or standing still Spontaneous/Eclectic Scatterbrained Flexible Desperate Aging child Self-centered adult Youthful Over 40 and trying to deny it Good sense of humor Watches a lot of television