wander

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.

The Forest is dark, dearie, The Forest is dark;The moment you think that you__e lost in the woods, then you are.Do not lose your way, dearie, Do not lose your way;The monsters are lurking not far from the path should you stray.Things aren__ what they seem, dearie, Things aren__ what they seem;Kind grins are bared teeth; Please don__ answer the calls from the trees.Do not pay them heed, dearie, Do not pay them heed;Hear footsteps behind you, beware but don__ fret, they__e just checking.The air is alive, dearie, The air is alive;To help and to hinder, but it__ how some learned to survive.These woods are too old, dearie, These woods are too old;Watch for crimson wraiths, keep your strength and wits close should you go.Deep in the Forest.

Walking on a path of uncertainties, Shuffling on the probabilities of uncertainties, Waging on the possibilities of uncertainties, Waiting for the occurrences of uncertainties,Solving the mysteries of wandering uncertainties,We move, lead and live.

With God, being lost is nothing more than an idea that never has and never will be anything more than an idea.

It is the fool who declares __ am ascending the summit,_ while he__ toddling around in the ditch.

Due north_ on my compass is largely __ue_ to the fact that in __ue_ time I have been __nduly_ lax in recalibrating my compass. And I__ apparently ignorant enough to wonder why I__ lost.

Youth is to wander! Adult is to act! Age is to assimilate the beauty of thoughts.

The passion for travelling is, I believe, instinctive in some natures. We have seen men persevere in their enterprises against the most formidable obstacles; and, without means or friends, and even ignorant of the languages of the various countries through which they passed, pursue their perilous journeys into remote places, until, like the knight in the Arabian tale, they succeeded in snatching a memorial from every shrine they visited.

I was forced to wander, having no one, forced by my nature to keep wandering because wandering was the only thing that I believed in, and the only thing that believed in me.

Ah, Toulouse, you have travelled too much. You know the gods of a hundred lands, those of the trees and mountains, the sky and sea, the stars and planets, of demons and angels, and even the Master of the Cosmos. But I am speaking of God. There are others, I__ sure, but only one God who created even great Zeus and Rama. Yet travel is like philosophy: a few years of it will perk the eye to differences, which you shall be able to notice with ease. Yet living as I have, travelling to lonely lands and through a thousand metropolises and hidden woods, you rather see the similarities. All becomes one, and God too becomes one. Not the sum of all those gods here, but beyond them, a being few philosophers have truly grasped. He has always been one, but he is severed in our minds. So it is up to us to piece him back together. If our souls possess a clarity beyond what our mortal nature can bestow, we shall see him.

I built my home in the feeling of waking up at dawn in a new city, where every road is the right road because there is no ordinary. Everything is as profound as you make it.

I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I'm born to leave.

And I keep wandering in search of a nothingness...

If we were meant to stay in one place, we would have roots instead of feet.

So now it__ this thing I do.I go away, ever so often, by myself, for myself,to new places with foreign streets I haven__ walked yet,and there I wander, up and down, watching people going places I don__ knowand it always hits me that they__e never alone,always with someone,and I wonder how they would spend a day all on their own in a foreign city with nothing to do and no one to see,and I wonder if they__ be happy.Just simply being free,like I am trying to be.Happy.Just simply being me.

Not all those who wander are lost.

All that is gold does not glitter,Not all those who wander are lost.

He kept wandering all his life until the day he met her. For the first time, he felt he should stop and never look back again. Everything else seemed worthless. Such was her magic.