Dirt Road Quotes

I can sometimes gaze out of the window, at the sheep, ponies, grazing deer, and numerous woodland folk. It's a wonderful setting in which to write. I live on a dirt road, miles from anywhere, with no neighbors. ~ Raymond Buckland

Tell me!" Cecily insisted later, shaking Colby by both arms.
"Cut it out, you'll dismember me," Colby said, chuckling.
She let go of the artificial arm and wrapped both hands around the good one. "I want to know. Listen, this is my covert operation. You're just a stand-in!"
"I promised I wouldn't tell."
"You promised in Lakota. Tell me in English what you promised in Lakota."
He gave in. He did tell her, but not Leta, what was said, but only about the men coming to the reservation soon.
"We'll need the license plate number," she said. "It can be traced.
"Oh, of course," he said facetiously. "They'll certainly come here with their own license plate on the car so that everyone knows who they are!"
"Damn!"
He chuckled at her irritation. He was about to tell her about his alternative method when a big sport utility vehicle came flying down the dirt road and pulled up right in front of Leta's small house.
Tate Winthrop got out, wearing jeans and a buckskin jacket and sunglasses. His thick hair fell around his shoulders and down his back like a straight black silk curtain. Cecily stared at it with curious fascination. In all the years she'd known him, she'd very rarely seen his hair down.
"All you need is the war paint," Colby said in a resigned tone. He turned the uninjured cheek toward the newcomer. "Go ahead. I like matching scars."
Tate took off the dark glasses and looked from Cecily to Colby without smiling. "Holden ~ Diana Palmer

They didn't want to take the crew-cab back to town, because they didn't want to sit where those guys had sat, so they rode the backhoe, as before, Westwood driving, Reacher and Chang face to face above his head, but this time on the dirt road. Which was slow, but more comfortable. They parked in the dealer's lot. The salesman came out. The backhoe was examined. It was a little stained by crushed wheat, and a little scratched on the sides. There was a little dirt caked on. And the front bucket had a dimple, where the bullet had struck. Not new anymore. Not exactly. Reacher gave the guy five grand from their leftover money. Easy come, easy go. Then ~ Lee Child

Speed is relative. Does it feel fast going 70 miles per hour down an eight lane highway? No, probably not, but I bet it does if you are going down some single lane dirt road. It's the same in a race car. It depends on the track. ~ Kyle Petty

We moved all around, and I was very worried I would not get a chance to show her what I had planned. Here was the children's home, here was the library, here was a furniture factory of the kibbutz. I tried to squeeze a few words in about everything we saw, as someone who makes himself known and unversed in the ways of the kibbutz. The highlight was when I gave her a tour, on the tractor, to the pear groves where I worked. I drove the tractor and she sat beside me, in a very unsafe way, standing on the shaft as she rested on one of the wheel's wings of the tractor. The groves were just a few minutes away from the kibbutz, on a dirt road that led south towards Acre. I kept explaining to her about new life on the kibbutz the entire time. ~ Nahum Sivan

Sometimes I find it difficult to determine whether or not I'm merely spinning my wheels or making progress. Nevertheless, I must keep moving on until I reach a destination. For I would much rather be in perpetual motion with the promise of reaching some place majestic beyond the horizon, rather than sitting idle alongside a dirt road watching time hurriedly pass me by. ~ Terry A. O'Neal

All I heard were the bumps and crunches of my tires on the dirt road, blending with the dark noises of the forest. But it wasnt the forest that scared me. It was the people who lived and prowled within them. ~ Lauren Myracle

I have bougainvillea and a magnolia tree outside my window. Not that anything will ever beat the view I had from my desk window in my little farmhouse in Nebraska. Just a dirt road stretching out as far as you could see, with prairie grass on either side. ~ Meghan Daum

Maddy: "Um ... William?" she said, driving up the narrow dirt road. "Is there a particular reason you keep a sword behind your backseat?" William: "Because I don't own a gun yet ~ Janet Chapman

Once he reached the farm he followed a barely used dirt road that led towards the sandstone cliffs. He heard the dog scrabbling across the rocky ground. The huffling of her breath. Some of the rocks were quite large and he turned and watched her stumble into them. In terrain like this she could easily break a leg and yet she lurched on, determined to find him. When she finally reached him she touched his leg with her nose, before settling down a few feet away, blind head looking out of over the dry Limpopo below. He wished he could pluck out her eyes and hold them in his hands like marbles. Rub them together, make thunder, bring rain. Instead he nudged the safety catch off his rifle and shot her. ~ Lisa Fugard

The information superhighway is a dirt road that won't be paved over until 2025. ~ Sumner Redstone

Let me tell you a BIG secret – THE secret that many do not know about happiness. Happiness is not something some people have and others do not; happiness is a practice – a skill that you get better at by practicing positive and empowering thoughts, daily. The simple reason why so many are traveling a dirt road towards happiness is because they practice the opposite every day: anger, hate, sadness, sorrow, loneliness, etc. ~ Jellis Vaes

Big and little they went on together to Molalla, to Tuska, to Roswell, Guthrie, Kaycee, to Baker and Bend. After a few weeks Pake said that if Diamond wanted a permanent traveling partner he was up for it. Diamond said yeah, although only a few states still allowed steer roping and Pake had to cover long, empty ground, his main territory in the livestock country of Oklahoma, Wyoming, Oregon and New Mexico. Their schedules did not fit into the same box without patient adjustment. But Pake knew a hundred dirt road shortcuts, steering them through scabland and slope country, in and out of the tiger shits, over the tawny plain still grooved with pilgrim wagon ruts, into early darkness and the first storm laying down black ice, hard orange-dawn, the world smoking, snaking dust devils on bare dirt, heat boiling out of the sun until the paint on the truck hood curled, ragged webs of dry rain that never hit the ground, through small-town traffic and stock on the road, band of horses in morning fog, two redheaded cowboys moving a house that filled the roadway and Pake busting around and into the ditch to get past, leaving junkyards and Mexican cafes behind, turning into midnight motel entrances with RING OFFICE BELL signs or steering onto the black prairie for a stunned hour of sleep. ~ Annie Proulx

The ghosts of women once girls

Somewhere a little girl is reading aloud
in the middle of a dirt road. she smiles
at the sound of her own voice escaping
the spine of the book. she feeds her hunger
to know herself. She has not yet been taught
to dim, she sits with the stars beneath her feet,
a constellation of things to come.
as if a swallowed moon, she glimmers.
Her head wrap rolls out in a gutter, bare feet
scat the earth, the ghosts of women once girls
make bridge of the dust dancing behind her,
she decorates the ground in dimples
she stomps suffering out the spirit
hooves drumming the earth in circles
she holds gladness in her mouth
like a secret teased out of a giggle
joy like her sadness overflows
she is not the opinions of others
she is of visions and imagination
somewhere a little girl is reading aloud in the middle of a dirt road.
she smiles at the sound of her own voice escaping the spine of the book.
She is a room full
of listening, lending herself
to her own words
somewhere

a deep remembering of what was, she survives all. ~ Aja Monet

NIGHT, I dreamt of him. He was waiting for me on the dirt road, the sun filtering through the leaves, little splashes of light on the ground like puddles of rippling water. He smiled so brightly as I reached my hand for his, our fingers curling together like they always had. We walked slowly toward the house at the end of the lane. We didn't speak. We didn't have to. It was enough just to be. ROBBIE ~ T.J. Klune

For reasons he couldn't understand a sadness came over him and it was then he saw the girl standing on the other side of the dirt road, her eyes pools of absolute sorrow, her light brown hair glowing in the splinters of sunlight that forced their way through the trees. ~ Melina Marchetta

For a split second today I could smell home. It smelled like sunset on a dirt road. I thought my heart was going to break. The world I left behind was so close I could almost touch it. Everything in me cried out for it. It's amazing how certain shades of agony have their own beauty. I can't ever seem to make myself believe that the home I once knew doesn't even exist anymore. It's still too real inside my head. I wish I had a handful of dust from back then, so that I could keep it in a bottle and always have it near. ~ Damien Echols

They were playing. The little girl had started it, the two boys quickly catching on. They would grab hold of one of the vertical poles, swing around in neat 180-degree turns and then barrel over to one end of the moving car. In a field, by the ocean, down a dirt road at dusk, they might have been graceful, like brown butterflies. ~ Lakambini A. Sitoy

Two shadowy figures had appeared in the distance. A young girl led a donkey by its halter, chattering to a child perched on its swaying back. What in God's name were they doing out alone at night? They headed down the dirt road straight toward the house where Tehrazzi was apparently holed up. Every muscle in her body went rigid with denial. "Oh no ... " Had Dec heard the kids? Did he know they were in danger? Could he alert the children before the air strike? Not if he hadn't seen them. What should she do? She was too afraid to yell out in case someone started shooting, but no way could she sit back and let those children suffer. The breath shot in and out of her nose as she counted backward from ten, praying Dec would do something so she wouldn't have to. Ten, nine, eight ... The little boy laughed. Bryn squeezed her eyes ~ Kaylea Cross

Onto the unpaved dirt road that runs toward the ~ Brad Meltzer

Kay found six and a half acres of land just off the Ouachita River at the mouth of Cypress Creek outside of West Monroe, Louisiana. It was at the end of a dirt road in one of the most heavily forested areas on the river. The classified advertisement in the newspaper described it as a "Sportsman's Paraside." When we drove out to see the land, I knew it was perfect as soon as we crested the hill that leads down to the house where we still live today. The place was absolutely perfect.
The real estate lady sensed my excitement and told me, "Now, Mr. Robertson, I'm required by law to inform you that this home sits in a floodplain."
"Perfect," I told her. "I wouldn't want it if it didn't. ~ Phil Robertson

I am a butterfly poet
birthed from pain
flying with the freedom
of my verses. ~ Susie Clevenger

Annie, who up until this very day had always felt like a child--which is why she could not marry, she could not be a wife--now felt quietly ancient. She thought how for years onstage she had used the image of walking up the dirt road holding her father's hand, the snow-covered fields spread around them, the woods in the distance, joy spilling through her--how she had used this scene to have tears immediately come to her eyes, for the happiness of it, and the loss of it. And now she wondered if it had even happened, if the road had ever been narrow and dirt, if her father had ever held her hand and said that his family was the most important thing to him. ~ Elizabeth Strout

As we get ready to leave, Georgina announces that she wants to keep the kitten. But of course she can't. We walk up and down looking for its mother, calling for its siblings. But the nearby kraals are deserted, of both people and animals. And eventually we have to leave it at the gate of an empty kraal, the closest one to where it found us, hoping that this might be its home. As we start to drive away, the kitten totters down the dirt road after us, a furry ball of khaki with irregular black spots, and Georgina bursts into tears.

'Over the kitten? Really?' I ask, gesturing around the ruins of the torture base and the mass graves. 'With all of this?'

'No,' she sniffs. 'It's not just the kitten. It's everyone here. They've all been abandoned. No one gives a **** about what happened to them. They're completely alone. ~ Peter Godwin

I tell people, 'I was born in a little house at the dead end of a dirt road that had no name and no number, and you can go anywhere from nowhere.' ~ Robert H. Schuller

I grew up on a dirt road in Maine, and pretty much everybody on that dirt road was related to me, and they were old. And so grumpy. ~ Elizabeth Strout

I lay on the side of the dirt road next to a rocky trench, looked up to the gray morning sky, thankful for air, thankful for light, thankful to be alive. ~ Khaled Hosseini

He is the playfulness of creation, scandal and utter goodness, the generosity of the ocean and the ferocity of a thunderstorm; he is cunning as a snake and gentle as a whisper; the gladness of sunshine and the humility of a thirty-mile walk by foot on a dirt road. ~ John Eldredge

What happened? Stan repeats.
To us?
To the country?
What happened when childhood ends in Dealey Plaza, in Memphis, in the kitchen of the Ambassador, your belief your hope your trust lying in a pool of blood again? Fifty-five thousand of your brothers dead in Vietnam, a million Vietnamese, photos of naked napalmed children running down a dirt road, Kent State, Soviet tanks roll into Prague so you turn on drop out you know you can't reinvent the country but maybe you reimagine yourself you believe you really believe that you can that you can create a world of your own and then you lower that expectation to just a piece of ground to make a stand on but then you learn that piece of ground costs money that you don't have.
What happened?
Altamont, Charlie Manson, Sharon Tate, Son of Sam, Mark Chapman we saw a dream turn into a nightmare we saw love and peace turn into endless war and violence our idealism into realism our realism into cynicism our cynicism into apathy our apathy into selfishness our selfishness into greed and then greed was good and we
Had babies, Ben, we had you and we had hopes but we also had fears we created nests that became bunkers we made our houses baby-safe and we bought car seats and organic apple juice and hired multilingual nannies and paid tuition to private schools out of love but also out of fear.
What happened?
You start by trying to create a new world and then you find yourself just wanting to add a b ~ Don Winslow

Today, the sun is everywhere, and everything solid is nothing but its own shadow, I know that the real things in life, the things I remember, the things I turn over in my hands, are not houses, bank accounts, prizes or promotions. What I remember is love -- all love -- love of this dirt road, this sunrise, a day by the river, the stranger I met in a café. Myself, even, which is the hardest thing of all to love, because love and selfishness are not the same thing. It is easy to be selfish. It is hard to love who I am. No wonder I am surprised if you do. ~ Jeanette Winterson

Two flights of steps bordered either side of the Hill from Hell. I didn't know who constructed them or when, but it was sometime before I was born. Maybe even before Daddy was born. In one stretch, the steps were made of large semiflat stones. In another, wood. In a third, slate. All of them were in terrible disrepair, but it was still easier to climb them than to try to walk up the dirt road itself, especially since Stacy and I were weighed down with our backpacks, slices of pie in Tupperware containers, bottles of Pepsi, and a bunch of cassette tapes. We stopped halfway up to catch our breath. I really didn't need to, but I could tell Stacy was not used to trudging up hills. ~ Diane Chamberlain

A street turned off at right angles, descending, and became a dirt road. On either hand the land dropped more sharply; a broad flat dotted with small cabins whose weathered roofs were on a level with the crown of the road. They were set in small grassless plots littered with broken things, bricks, planks, crockery, things of a once utilitarian value. What growth there was consisted of rank weeds and the trees were mulberries and locusts and sycamores
trees that partook also of the foul desiccation which surrounded the houses; trees whose very burgeoning seemed to be the sad and stubborn remnant of September, as if even spring had passed them by, leaving them to feed upon the rich and unmistakable smell of negroes in which they grew. ~ William Faulkner

I wiped my hands on my apron and went to the window. Outside, the prairie reached out and touched the places where the sky came down. Though the winter was nearly over, there were patches of snow and ice everywhere. I looked at the long dirt road that crawled across the plains, remembering the morning that Mama had died, cruel and sunny. They had come for her in a wagon and taken her away to be buried. And then the cousins and aunts and uncles had come and tried to fill up the house. But they couldn't. ~ Patricia MacLachlan

I'm a contemporary artist with a bit of an unexpected background. I was in my 20s before I ever went to an art museum. I grew up in the middle of nowhere on a dirt road in rural Arkansas, an hour from the nearest movie theater. ~ Shea Hembrey

We hopped back into the Jeep, and he drove us along a back road, which changed to a dirt road, which changed to gravel, which changed to two lines in the dirt, and then disappeared altogether. ~ Colleen Houck

After about half an hour, Mr. Sorenson turns onto a narrow unpaved road. Dirt rises around us as we drive, coating the windshield and side windows. We pass more fields and then a copse of birch tree skeletons, cross through a dilapidated covered bridge over a murky stream still sheeted with ice, turn down a bumpy dirt road bordered by pine trees. Mr. Sorenson is holding a card with what looks like directions on it. He slows the truck, pulls to a stop, looks back toward the bridge. Then he peers out the grimy windshield at the trees ahead. "No goldarn signs," he mutters. He puts his foot on the pedal and inches forward. Out ~ Christina Baker Kline

Whether you are a low-income elderly woman living at the end of a dirt road in Vermont or a wealthy CEO living on Park Avenue, you get your mail six days a week. And you pay for this service at a cost far less than anywhere else in the industrialized world. ~ Bernie Sanders

He's ugly enough to make a freight train take a dirt road. ~ Chris Stevenson

I grew up on a dirt road with brothers. ~ Josh Holloway

Yeah I'm chillin' on a dirt road, laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones. ~ Jason Aldean

These days, there are so few pure country people left on the concession roads that we may be in need of a new category of membership, much as sons and daughters of veterans are now allowed to join the Legion. A few simple questions could be asked, a small fee paid and (assuming that the answers are correct) you could be granted the status of an "almost local." Here are some of the questions you might be asked: Do you have just one suit for weddings and funerals? Do you save plastic buckets? Do you leave your car doors unlocked at all times? Do you have an inside dog and an outside dog? Has your outside dog never been to town? When you pass a neighbour in the car, do you wave from the elbow or do you merely raise one finger from the steering wheel? Do you have trouble keeping the car or truck going in a straight line because you are looking at crops or livestock? Do you sometimes find yourself sitting in the car in the middle of a dirt road chatting with a neighbour out the window while other cars take the ditch to get around you? Can you tell whose tractor is going by without looking out the window? Can people recognize you from three hundred yards away by the way you walk or the tilt of your hat? If somebody honks their horn at you, do you automatically smile and wave? Do most of your conversations open with some observation about the weather? Is your most important news source the store in the village? Have you had surgery in the local hospital? If you hear about a death or ~ Dan Needles

I hung up the phone after saying good night to Marlboro Man, this isolated cowboy who hadn't had the slightest probably picking up the phone to say "I miss you." I shuddered at the thought of how long I'd gone without it. And judging from the electrical charges searing through every cell of my body, I realized just how fundamental a human need it really is.
It was as fundamental a human need, I would learn, as having a sense of direction in the dark. I suddenly realized I was lost on the long dirt road, more lost than I'd ever been before. The more twists and turns I took in my attempt to find my bearings, the worse my situation became. It was almost midnight, and it was cold, and each intersection looked like the same one repeating over and over. I found myself struck with an illogical and indescribable panic--the kind that causes you to truly believe you'll never, ever escape from where you are, even though you almost always will. As I drove, I remembered every horror movie I'd ever watched that had taken place in a rural setting. Children of the Corn. The children of the corn were lurking out there in the tall grass, I just knew it. Friday the 13th. Sure, it had taken place at a summer camp, but the same thing could happen on a cattle ranch. And The Texas Chain Saw Massacre? Oh no. I was dead. Leatherface was coming--or even worse, his freaky, emaciated, misanthropic brother.
I kept driving for a while, then stopped on the side of the road. Shining my brights on ~ Ree Drummond

The taxi sped down the dirt road, spitting dust clouds into the bright afternoon sunshine. When it stopped in front of a sprawling ranch house surrounded by majestic mountains, Gabriella Gibson caught her breath. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she'd end up on a cattle ranch. ~ Marilyn Shank

The footsteps stop, but the birds are still singing. Singing about a girl who wakes up on a dirt road and doesn't know what happened to her the night before.

And the person standing over her, a shadow across her body that blocks out the sun. Maybe it's someone nice. Or maybe someone come to finish what it is that's been started. About a girl.

Don't look at her. ~ Courtney Summers

My mother was always in the center of her own agitation, seeming as though, far away, part of her was being chased along a dirt road by a swarm of bees. ~ Laura Kasischke

I know I grew up in the time when a young man in a baggy suit and slicked-down hair stood spraddle-legged in the crossroads of history and talked hot and mean about the colored, giving my poor and desperate people a reason to feel superior to somebody, to anybody. I know that even as the words of George Wallace rang through my Alabama, the black family who lived down the dirt road from our house sent fresh-picked corn and other food to the poor white lady and her three sons, because they knew their daddy had run off, because hungry does not have a color. ~ Rick Bragg

Beyond a certain speed, motorized vehicles create remoteness which they alone can shrink. They create distances for all and shrink them for only a few. A new dirt road through the wilderness brings the city within view, but not within reach, of most Brazilian subsistence farmers. The new expressway expands Chicago, but it sucks those who are well-wheeled away from a downtown that decays into a ghetto. ~ Ivan Illich

My wife, Daniela, and I live in an old house from 1810 with three fireplaces at the end of a dead-end dirt road on Cape Cod, so I turn the trees into firewood for us and a friend of mine sells the rest. ~ Sebastian Junger

Sometimes you find your way and sometimes way finds you! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Perhaps everyone loved someone; I didn't now, I couldn't give much thought to love; in order to travel far you had to be detached, and I had the long road back to the campus before me. ~ Ralph Ellison

dirt, but the machine began to make ~ Kim Edwards

The road was icy as it was, but Rudy put on the extra coat, barely able to contain a grin. It ran across his face like a skid. ~ Markus Zusak

It is progress when a centuries-old oak is cut down to give space for a road sign. ~ Thor Heyerdahl

The only road to freedom is self-education in art. Art is not a luxury for any advanced
civilization; it is a necessity, without which creative intelligence will wither and die. Even
in economically troubled times, support for the arts should be a national imperative.
Dance, for example, requires funding not only to secure safe, roomy rehearsal space but
to preserve the indispensible continuity of the teacher-student link. American culture has
become unbalanced by its obsession with the blood sport of politics, a voracious vortex
consuming everything in its path. History shows that, for both individuals and nations,
political power is transient. America's true legacy is its ideal of liberty, which has inspired
insurgencies around the world. Politicians and partisans of both the Right and the Left
must recognize that art too is a voice of liberty, requiring nurture without intrusion. Art
unites the spiritual and material realms. In an age of alluring, magical machines, the
society that forgets art risks losing its soul. ~ Camille Paglia

I think everybody gets their recognition sometime down the road, and I have never been one to seek it. Besides, it has been that way throughout my career, especially in college. ~ Andre Ethier

Sometimes when I felt the eyes crawling on me from all sides, I got scared thinking someone was looking who wasn't just curious. I knew it was my imagination and I got used to it, learned to shunt it away. But sometimes I held onto it quietly, that feeling that someone behind or beside me in the crowd – some guy leaning on the target booth with a rifle, or some cranky sweating father spending too much on ride tickets to keep his kids away from him – anybody could be looking at me in the sidelong way that norms use to look at freaks, but thinking of me twitching and biting at the dirt while my guts spilled out of the big escape hatch he'd cut for them… a feeling like that is special. Sometimes you hold onto it quietly for a while. ~ Katherine Dunn

I'm a guy. Unless the dirt attacks first, I leave it in peace. ~ Katie Graykowski

Once you go down a road, you take it through to the end. ~ Peter Jackson

Uncertainty and failure might look like the end of the road to you. But uncertainty is a part of life. Facing uncertainty and failure doesn't always make people weaker and weaker until they give up. Sometimes it wakes them up, and it's like they can see the beauty around them for the first time. Sometimes losing everything makes you realize how little you actually need. Sometimes losing everything sends you out into the world to breathe in the air, to pick some flowery weeds, to take in a new day.

Because this life is full of promise, always. It's full of beads and dolls and chipped plates; it's full of twinklings and twinges. It is possible to admit that life is a struggle and also embrace the fact that small things - like sons who call you and beloved dogs in framed pictures and birds that tell you to drink your fucking tea - matter. They matter a lot.

Stop trying to make sense of things. You can't think your way through this. Open your heart and drink in this glorious day. You are young, and you will find little things that will make you grateful to be alive. Believe in what you love now, with all of your heart, and you will love more and more until everything around you is love. Love yourself now, exactly as sad and scared and flawed as you are, and you will grow up and live a rich life and show up for other people, and you'll know exactly how big that is.

Let's celebrate this moment together. There are twinklings and twinges, right here, ~ Heather Havrilesky

All Romani dialects – about 60 in all - contain Armenian words, proof if you will that the Lom Bosha passed through Armenia in the early 11th century, trading spices along the Great Silk Road, that network of ancient trade routes connecting China with the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. The Romani traded Armenian carpets, silk, dyes, lapis lazuli and tin, and it's no surprise that five capitals of Armenia are on The Great Silk Road. ~ Karl Wiggins

The car was full of unhappy people heading west. It was the Great American Family Road Trip, all right. Whaaa-hoo! ~ Kim Harrison

Celebrity is a pretty stunning thing. At first I was like 'They love me! Oh, I love them, too.' And suddenly, I was tap-dancing on my pedestal and it was whack! Facedown in the dirt. ~ Sharon Stone

The English language is mysterious. The secret of our dog is to be found in it. 'Dog' spelt backwards is 'God'. The dog, then, is the road which, if travelled backwards, from the deepest depths, from the roots of the tree of smell, touch and taste, will turn you into a God. Thus the dog is the guide of the Blind Traveller, of the Pilgrim of Immortality. It is God backwards. ~ Miguel Serrano

All the horrible photos of Steven and the naked porn women flashed back into my head for a moment, making me feel like a nerdy wallflower waiting for someone to notice my colorful petals and not the dirt I was packed in. ~ Dawn Galland

Every goal has a road block; that is our fear of failure. ~ Debasish Mridha

I know personally that when a child is abused the trajectory of that child's life is changed forever. That doesn't mean the path to happiness is impossible, but it does mean there will be detours and side roads that were never intended. Come back from those places, my friends, with lessons and compassion those on the straight road might never have the chance to learn. You are now equipped to help hurting children because you've navigated down those dark courses and made it back. Cudos to you, but also let your shoulders feel the weight of the responsibility to help others who are still lost and struggling to find their way to safety. ~ Toni Sorenson

Back at home they drew the curtains and read, with disapproval, with relish, with avidity and glee - even the ones who'd never thought of opening a novel before. There's nothing like a shovelful of dirt to encourage literacy. ~ Margaret Atwood

There are no footprints on the sea and no road-signs, not a single guard-stone or post, and no bends, only paths of light and dark from which to choose, the choice is always a difficult navigation and the storm's wingspan immeasurable as the depths and the horizon, but the sea holds you in its mighty hand your life is a sea-blue tale of love and death. ~ Ase-Marie Nesse

It is like the seed put in the soil - the more one sows, the greater the harvest. ~ Orison Swett Marden

All I could feel was the pulse of our heartbeats where we joined, throbbing and pounding through every fibre in my body. We rocked back and forth, always kissing. And on the cold, cold ground by the flickering warmth of the fire, we made love. The way he held me, the way he looked at me, it was the closest to heaven I'd ever get without dyin'. ~ N.R. Walker

You have the potential to become anything to which you set your mind. You have a mind and a body and a spirit. With these three working together, you can walk the high road that leads to achievement and happiness. But this will require effort and sacrifice and faith. ~ Gordon B. Hinckley

As Winston Churchill said, "If you're going through hell, keep going." I know from hard experience that can be the longest journey down the darkest road. And I have learned that sometime the shortest distance isnt' forward, but up. ~ Tami Hoag

Then you understand the wide range of the totally new and unexpected creations they can sometimes come up with. Most people's minds travel along the same road traveled by everyone else, never straying off the route of conventional wisdom. Makers know no such boundaries. They have a rare ability to make their own roads of thought. Their minds venture through the wilderness of all that exists, combining random bits of knowledge in ways that have never been imagined before. ~ Terry Goodkind

Now the road was crossing orange groves in flower, and the nuptial scent of the blossoms absorbed the rest as a full moon does a landscape; the smell of sweating horses, the smell of leather from the carriage upholstery, the smell of Prince and the smell of Jesuit, were all cancelled out by that Islamic perfume evoking houris and fleshly joys beyond the grave. ~ Giuseppe Tomasi Di Lampedusa

The termination; final chapter of endless road. ~ Usha Cosmico

There is always a road back. If we have the courage to look for it, and take it. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I don't know. I need help. These are the signposts. The cardinal directions. ~ Louise Penny

Careful, taking the high road causes nose bleeds, so carry tissue. ~ Isabella

Sonya wasn't listening. Her gaze was totally fixated on the road we'd pulled off onto. We came to a red light, where I caught sight of a cheery sign: WELCOME TO ANN ARBOR, MICHIGAN. ~ Richelle Mead

Indeed, the zeal of Boston's rank-and-file marathoners rivaled, and in some ways echoed, the religious passion of Nathaniel Howe and his congregation. The runners indulged in orgies of self-denial-running 100 miles a week, working junk )ohs in order to have time to train, paying their own way to races, banding together in ascetic cells, forgoing the temptations of an idolatrous world in order to attain grace and salvation out on the road. As in Puritan New England, grace was not blithely attained. A believer-a runner-earned it by losing toenails and training down to bone and muscle, just as the Puritans formed calluses on their knees from
praying. No one made a cent from their strenuous efforts. The running life, like the spiritual life, was its own reward. ~ John Brant

A world that is intellectually mature but morally infantile is on the road to ruin. ~ Joshua Loth Liebman

I love my dad and respect him and miss him, but I never hung around my father that much because my dad was a lawyer and engineer, and he really didn't understand what I was about. I was supposed to go to law school at UCLA - I was admitted - and instead of going to law school, I went on the road with a band. ~ Robert David Hall

in A Moral Vision of the New Testament. Hays says, "This means that for the foreseeable future we must find ways to live within the church in a situation of serious moral disagreement while still respecting one another as brother and sisters in Christ. If the church is going to start practicing the discipline of exclusion from the community, there are other issues far more important than homosexuality where we should begin to draw a line in the dirt: violence and materialism, for example." [117] I am convinced that how the biblical prohibitions apply to monogamous gay relationships is indeed a disputable matter and that the teaching of Romans 14-15 should guide our response. ~ Ken Wilson

Dennis asked, "Do you enjoy jazz? Because I love it, and I know of a place downtown where we could go." "And then we can have broken glass and arsenic for dinner!" I felt like replying, because I barely tolerated jazz when I encountered it in elevators or dental offices. But I considered that when you meet somebody who really loves something, the high-road thing to do is to try to love it, too, so I wrote back, "That sounds great! ~ Augusten Burroughs

You won't let me buy any clothes. Now you won't let me buy a road map, either!
I need to spend some money or I'm going to go crazy! ~ Sophie Kinsella

We plan our lives in long, unbroken stretches that intersect our dreams the way highways connect the city dots on a road map. But in the end we learn that life is lived in the side roads, alleys, and detours. Alan Christoffersen's diary ~ Richard Paul Evans

Jerry Garcia used to take his paints on the road. I don't do that. Either I'm a singer or a painter. I'm not good at multi-tasking. ~ Grace Slick

My work has been about making a record of my life that no one can revise. I photograph myself in times of trouble or change in order to find the ground to stand on in the change. I was coming out of a melancholic phase. This was taken when I was traveling extensively, on the road from hotel to hotel. You get displaced, and then taking self-portraits becomes a way of hanging on to yourself. ~ Nan Goldin

One road was simple acceptance of life, the other road offered sweet peace. When I made my decision, my vision became my release. ~ Dan Fogelberg

As with anything worth achieving, the road to all-encompassing evil has no shortcuts. ~ Scott Seegert

Wild animals passed on their way under the leaves; each track was an arterial road; and when I stooped and looked at the earth close to, I saw, from leaf to leaf and flower to flower, a moving host of insects. ~ Andre Gide

The road to home is when we find our hearts filled with the stories of our people. ~ Psyche Roxas-Mendoza