traveler

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 who is not suited to its personality. Only through travel can we know where we belong or not, where we are loved and where we are rejected.

Keep taking new paths to expand your horizon.

The roads of life are paved wide and skirt the mountains. And these very roads are choked with a steady stream of pathetically pedantic travelers who in reality have no intent of traveling. And if we are to discover the real travelers, much less join them, we will find them out on precarious paths that defy the roads and scale the mountains.

I was running and deliberately lost my way. The world far off and nothing but my breath and the very next step and it__ like hypnosis. The feeling of conquering my own aliveness with no task but to keep going, making every way the right away and that__ a metaphor for everything.

Every traveler has their unique observation of the place they have been.

Word-Power'Being stuck in my room,I've become a world traveler.If you wonder how...just guess how I've reached you right now

Good luck' is like the shadow of a tree, for some time it gives comfort to a traveler but it doesn't go ahead with a traveler.

I reside in an abode where your thoughts imagine me... You reside in my heart where the auricles camouflage my longing...

You wake up and feel a sudden sadness that you never felt before. You try to find a reason behind it but you cannot. You think coffee might change the feeling. So you make yourself a hot cup of coffee and put on the music player. Do you feel better now?

A lot of people travel because they are unhappy, but travelling does not necessary makes one happier. Sometimes it exacerbates the unhappiness, the loneliness.

Every traveler should make their own observation.

I have seen travel plans happen only when they were made overnight.

Don't be amazed if you see my eyes always wandering. In fact, this is my way of reading, and it is only in this way that reading proves fruitful to me. If a book truly interests me, I cannot follow it for more than a few lines before my mind, having seized on a thought that the text suggests to it, or a feeling, or a question, or an image, goes off on a tangent and springs from thought to thought, from image to image, in an itinerary of reasonings and fantasies that I feel the need to pursue to the end, moving away from the book until I have lost sight of it. The stimulus of reading is indispensable to me, and of meaty reading, even if, of every book, I manage to read no more than a few pages. But those few pages already enclose for me whole universes, which I can never exhaust.

_, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

The traveler knows the grace of travel.

When the traveler goes alone he gets acquainted with himself.

The best traveler is one without a camera.

I am running and singing and when it__ raining I__ the only one left on the open street, smiling with my eyes fixed on the sky because it__ cleaning me. I__ the one on the other side of the party, hearing laughter and the emptying of bottles while I peacefully make my way to the river, a lonely road, following the smell of the ocean. I__ the one waking up at 4am to witness the sunrise, where the sky touches the sea, and I hold my elbows, grasping tight to whatever I__e made of myself.