Letter On The Road Quotes

With your name on my mouth
and a kiss that never
broke away from yours. ~ Pablo Neruda

I had abandoned Elana; I deserved her uncertainty. I closed my eyes and focused on her touch. Perhaps she wouldn't have understood had I tried to explain it to her, but to me Elana was not only Elana--she was the sad-eyed love of mine who used to bag groceries at Woodley's in Buffalo; she was the sweet one who always sat across from me on the city bus in Niagara Falls; she was the girl I'd picked up hitchhiking in Mobile and dropped off in New Orleans, brash, full of sarcastic humor, but truly lonely and scared; she was the one I'd nabbed pinching Newports for her dad from the Marathon station I'd worked at in Bakersfield (I'd softened and paid for the pack myself); yes, she was the girl playing basketball with all the boys in the park, collecting cans by the side of the road, keeping secret pet kittens in an empty boxcar in the woods, walking alone at night through the rail yards, teaching her little sisters how to kiss, reading out loud to herself, so absorbed by the story, singing sadly in the tub, building a fort from the junked cars out in the meadow, by herself in the front row at the black-and-white movies or in the alley, gazing at an eddy of cigarette stubs and trash and fall leaves, smoking her first cigarette at dusk by a pile of dead brush in the desert, then wishing at the stars-she was all of them, and she was so much more that was just her that I still didn't know. ~ Davy Rothbart

Nixon was becoming a discombobulated president, politically on the run. His interior secretary, Walter Hickel, posted a letter to the president that leaked to the Washington Star: "Youth in its protest must be heard." Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and James Monroe were all young people in their day, Hickel argued; their "protests fell on deaf ears and finally led to war." (The president's response was to bulldoze the White House tennis court, beloved of Hickel.) ~ Rick Perlstein

Why is it that when your life is at a breaking point, every freaking song on the radio relates to it. If I heard one more sad song, I was going to rip the radio out of the dash and toss it out on the road. ~ Jennifer Foor

The connection between radical attentiveness, prayer, and joy pervades Jewish mystical thinking in its diverse phases but never so brightly, so every-day-related, and so clearly as in Hasidism. Melancholy is the dust in the soul that Satan spreads out. Worry and dejection are seen to be the roots of every evil force. Melancholy is a wicked quality and displeasing to God, says Martin Buber.

Rabbi Bunam said: "Once when I was on the road near Warsaw, I felt that I had to tell a certain story. But this story was of a worldly nature and I knew that it would only rouse laughter among the many people who had gathered about me. The Evil Urge tried very hard to dissuade me, saying that I would lose all those people because once they heard this story they would no longer consider me a rabbi. But I said to my heart: `Why should you he concerned about the secret ways of God?' And I remembered the words of Rabbi Pinhas of Koretz: 'All joys hail from paradise, and jests too, provided they are uttered in true joy' And so in my heart of hearts I renounced my rabbi's office and told the story. The gathering burst out laughing. And those who up to this point had been distant from me attached themselves to me." (a quote from Tales of the Hasidim by Martin Buber).

Joy, laughter, and delight are so powerful because, like all mysticism, they abolish conventional divisions, in this case the division between secular and sacred. The often boisterous laughter, especially of wome ~ Dorothee Solle

Ruby: I've decided. I'm putting my Gary on a diet.
Rosie: You're putting him on a diet? How on earth can you control what your twenty-one-year-old son eats?
Ruby: Oh it's easy; I'll just nail down everything to the floor.
Rosie: So what kind of diet is it?
Ruby: I don't know. I bought a magazine, but there are so many stupid diets out there I don't know which one to pick. Remember that ridiculous one that you and I did last year? The alphabet one where we had to eat foods beginning with a certain letter every day?
Rosie: Oh yeah! How long did we do that for?!
Ruby: Em . . . that would be 26 days of course Rosie
Rosie: Oh . . . right . . . of course. You put on weight on the third day.
Ruby: That's because the third day was the lucky letter "C" . . . Cakes . . . mmmm
Rosie: Well we made up for it on the last day. I was bloody starving on "Z" day; I was practically chasing zebras with a kitchen knife around the zoo. Could have eaten the zoo I suppose . . .
Ruby: You should have done what I did, I ate like a queen. I became German for the day and ate "ze cakes" and "ze buns." Oh I don't know Rosie. I think I'll just invent a diet of my own and give those stupid magazines a run for their money ~ Cecelia Ahern

I was talking about time. It`s so hard for me to believe in it. Some things go. Pass on. Some things just stay. I used to think it`s just my rememory. You know. Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it`s not. [...] What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don`t think it, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. [...] Someday you be walking down the road and you hear something or see something going on. So clear. And you think it`s you thinking it up. A thought picture. But no. It`s when you bump into a rememory that belongs to somebody else. ~ Toni Morrison

There might, after all, be a grizzled old man with fire in his fists on the road. ~ Robert Lautner

What's Your Road, Man? ~ Jack Kerouac

In human life, art may arise from almost any activity, and once it does so, it is launched on a long road of exploration, invention, freedom to the limits of extravagance, interference to the point of frustration, finally discipline, controlling constant change and growth. ~ Susanne Katherina Langer

Each time my mother went psychotic, I hoped it would be the last time. Afterward she would tell me, 'I think that was the final episode. I think I had a breakthrough.' And I would believe-for a few months-that it was true. That she was back to stay. Maybe it was like having a rock star mother who was always on the road. Were there Benatar children? Did they sit around and wonder if their mom's Hell is for Children tour was going to be her last tour? ~ Augusten Burroughs

As life runs on, the road grows strange with faces new - and near the end. The milestones into headstones change, Neath every one a friend. ~ James Russell Lowell

I see my skeleton walking down the street now. I'm walking behind it. Our feet touch the ground at the same time. I am my own shadow. The road we're walking along looks familiar. The trees lining the pavement have been bleached by the sun. There are stone steps on my left. I climb them. This is the route I used to take after school. It's very dark. The skeleton has disappeared. ~ Ma Jian

Interstate 8"

Spent 18 hours waiting stoned for space
I spent the same 18 hours in the same damn place
I'm on a road shaped like a figure 8
I'm going nowhere, but I'm guaranteed to be late
You go out like a riptide
You know that ball has no sides
You're an angel with an amber halo
Black hair and the devil's pitchfork
Wind-up anger with the endless view of
The ground's colorful patchwork
How have you been? [x2]
How have you? [x2]
I drove around for hours, I drove around for days
I drove around for months and years and never went no place
We're on a pass, we're on pass
I stopped for gas, but where could place be
To pay for gas to drive around
Around the Interstate 8
You go out like a riptide
You know that ball has no sides
You're an angel with an amber halo
Black hair and the devil's pitchfork
Wind-up anger with the endless view of
The ground's colorful patchwork
How have you been? [x2]
How have you? [x2] ~ Modest Mouse

When you live a life devoid of ritual and convention, with honesty and self-effacement, then you are on the road to freedom. ~ Frederick Lenz

I try to work out with my personal trainer for an hour, four times a week - we mainly concentrate on weights and running. If I'm on the road I sometimes do DVD work-outs in my hotel room - P90X and Insanity are a couple of my favourites. ~ Fergie

In a way, "failure" is just another word for "the journey," for not being there yet but on the way. It's the road we walk on to get wherever it is we're trying to go. ~ Sara Zarr

On the road again, goin' places that I've never been. Seein' things that I may never see again, and I can't wait to get on the road again. ~ Willie Nelson

Autobiographical writing acts as a timeless testament to each person's epic record of adventure, heartache, road to perdition, and achievement of a spiritual life devoid of the consternation, trepidation, foreboding fear, and inconsolably hankering for what is unattainable for humankind. ~ Kilroy J. Oldster

I was having a drink with Hugh Laurie, with whom I'd worked on his series House, and I told him I wanted to write a breakup letter from King George to the colonies. Without blinking, he improv'd at me, "Awwww, you'll be back," wagging his finger. I laughed and filed it away. Thanks, Hugh Laurie. ~ Lin-Manuel Miranda

Above all, what is our culture, and what has remained of it? Is European culture perhaps nothing more than the technology and trade civilization that has marched triumphantly across the planet? Or is it instead a post-European culture born on the ruins of the ancient European cultures?
There is a paradoxical synchrony in these developments. The victory of the post-European techno-secular world and the universalization of its lifestyle and thinking have spread the impression (especially in Asia and Africa) that Europe's value system, culture, and faith (in other words, the very foundations of its identity) have reached the end of the road and have indeed already disappeared. ~ Pope Benedict XVI

I had a dream about you; you sat at the end of this long road field with things trying to keep me from you. You cheered me on as I became closer to you. ~ Rodney Jenkins

People can hate on you for doing what it is that makes you happy, but ultimately, it has to belong to you. It shouldn't matter what anyone else thinks. Life is not easy. The road to happiness is not a path well trotted. You have to find your own path to enlightenment. ~ Jamie Campbell Bower

This would be so much easier if [Allie] hadn't killed the jeep."
"For the last time," I growled at [Jackal]. "I just pointed out the street that wasn't blocked off. I didn't leave those nails on the road for you to drive over. ~ Julie Kagawa

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

Part of abandoning the all-or-nothing mentality is allowing yourself room for setbacks. We are bound to have lapses on the road to health and wellness, but it is critical that we learn how to handle small failures positively so that we can minimize their long-term destructive effects. One setback is one setback - it is not the end of the world, nor is it the end of your journey toward a better you. ~ Jillian Michaels

I was born into this world without knowing what life was all about. Only power promised fulfillment in life, and I have pursued it--long enough to recognize that it's a false promise and that this road leads to nothing. But I tried. Even if we get no answers to our questions, it is the inalienable right of every living being to search for them--by all means, on all paths, and with all strength. What I did was only what I had a right to do. ~ Andreas Eschbach

The mere knowledge of secrets will not help the amateur conjurer very far on the road to success. ~ David Devant

I still think about the letter you asked me to write. It nags at me, even though you're gone and there's no one to give it to anymore. Sometimes I work on it in my head, trying to map out the story you asked me to tell, about everything that happened this past fall and winter. It's all still there, like a movie I can watch when I want to. Which is never. ~ Rebecca Stead

Andrew Carnegie loved libraries; he knew their importance to an educated society and as anchors to our communities. And so, just as some loyal baseball fans travel to attend games at all 30 major league stadiums, over the last decade or so, I have slowly, casually, visited Carnegie libraries whenever I am on the road. ~ Sam Weller

A romantic painting shows a heap of icy debris in a polar light; no man, no object inhabits this desolate space; but for this very reason, provided I am suffering an amorous sadness, this void requires that I fling myself into it; I project myself as a tiny figure, seated on a block of ice, abandoned forever. "I'm cold," the lover says, "Iet's go back"; but there is no road, no way, the boat is wrecked. There is a coldness particular to the lover, the chilliness of the child (or of any young animal) that needs maternal warmth. ~ Roland Barthes

Keep right on to the end of the road,
Keep right on to the end.
Tho' the way be long let your heart be strong,
Keep right on round the bend. ~ Sir Harry Lauder

The Mustang growled into reverse, aiming straight for the old lady.
Cassandra would have winced, even if she had been the most evil old woman on the face of the planet. Even if she had been granny-Hitler, she would have winced at the idea of running her down. But the thing standing in the road looked nothing like an old woman anymore. ~ Kendare Blake

It has taken almost half my life away from Ireland for me to truly feel what home really is, and it is not what I was expecting. In the end it was not a place, or a past, or any sort of single, dazzling epiphany. It was all the little things. Cold butter spread thick on sweet wheaten bread or hot, subsiding potatoes; the scent of wet, black soil; a bushy spine of grass on a one-track road; wide iron gates leading to high beech corridors; the chalky smell of a cow's wet muzzle, and, most of all, in Seamus Heaney's words, the sound of rivers in the trees. ~ Trish Deseine

I had spent many nights in the jungle looking for game, but this was the first time I had ever spent a night looking for a man-eater. The length of road immediately in front of me was brilliantly lit by the moon, but to right and left the overhanging trees cast dark shadows, and when the night wind agitated the branches and the shadows moved, I saw a dozen tigers advancing on me, and bitterly regretted the impulse that had induced me to place myself at the man-eater's mercy. I lacked the courage to return to the village and admit I was too frightened to carry out my self-imposed task, and with teeth chattering, as much from fear as from cold, I sat out the long night. As the grey dawn was lighting up the snowy range which I
was facing, I rested my head on my drawn-up knees, and it was in this position my men an hour later found me fast asleep; of the tiger I had neither heard nor seen anything. ~ Jim Corbett

He stared at her in insolent silence, unable to believe the alluring, impulsive girl he remembered had become this coolly aloof, self-possessed young woman. Even with her dusty clothes and the smear of dirt on her cheek, Elizabeth Cameron was strikingly beautiful, but she'd changed so much that-except for the eyes-he scarcely recognized her. One thing hadn't changed: She was still a schemer and a liar.
Straightening abruptly from his stance in the doorway, Ian walked forward. "I've had enough of this charade, Miss Cameron. No one invited you here, and you damn well know it."
Blinded with wrath and humiliation, Elizabeth groped in her reticule and snatched out the handwritten letter her uncle had received inviting Elizabeth to join Ian there. Marching up to him, she slapped the invitation against his chest. Instinctively he caught it but didn't open it.
"Explain that," she commanded, backing away and then waiting.
"Another note, I'll wager," he drawled sarcastically, thinking of the night he'd gone to the greenhouse to meet her and recalling what a fool he'd been about her.
Elizabeth stood beside the table, determined to have the satisfaction of hearing his explanation before she left-not that anything he said could make her stay. When he showed no sign of opening it, she turned furiously to Jake, who was sorely disappointed that Ian was deliberately chasing off two females who could surely be persuaded to do the cooking if they stayed. "Make him read ~ Judith McNaught

You can handle any and all of these sixteen routes, from the highest paved road in the Pyrenees to the flat woods through the Medoc. It all depends on your lungs, thighs, patience and proper selection of grandparents. ~ Walter Judson Moore

But there are times when you just need to acknowledge the shit, Fern, you know?"
Fern nodded, squeezing his hand a little tighter. "Yep. And that's okay, too."
"You just need to acknowledge it. Face the shit." Bailey's voice grew stronger, strident even. "Accept the truth in it. Own it, wallow in it, become one with the shit." Bailey sighed, the heavy mood lifting with his insistence on profanity. Swearing could be very therapeutic.
Fern smiled wanly. "Become one with the shit?"
"Yes! If that's what it takes."
"I've got Rocky Road ice cream. It looks a little like poop. Can we become one with the Rocky Road instead?"
"It does look a little like shit. Nuts and everything. Count me in."
"Sick, Bailey! ~ Amy Harmon

A big war is coming. Bigger than the one they were starting when I left. It'll go hard on England, but I expect we'll survive. I missed the other war, she said. I mean to be present for this one. Samuel and I had never really thought about war. Why, she said, the signs are all over Africa. India too, I expect. First there's a road built to where you keep your goods. Then your trees are hauled off to make ships and captain's furniture. Then your land is planted with something you can't eat. Then you're forced to work it. That's happening all over Africa, she said. Burma too, I expect. ~ Alice Walker

Since the road to publication is usually so arduous, meandering and fraught with unexpected twists, writers have ample time to compose (in their heads or on fettuccini-stained restaurant napkins) dissertation-length monologues befitting that of a Shakespearean lead character, during which they describe - in complex, paragraph-long sentences - how exceedingly indebted they are to everyone they've ever met, read a book by or chatted about "Motivation" with online (in their entire lives) for the help given in the writing, acquisition, printing and distribution of their debut novels. ~ Marilyn Brant

23From there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some boys came out of the town and jeered at him. "Get out of here, baldy!" they said. "Get out of here, baldy!" 24He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the LORD. Then two bears came out of the woods and mauled forty-two of the boys. 25And he went on to Mount Carmel and from there returned to Samaria. ~ Anonymous

Life is girt all round with a zodiac of sciences, the contributions of men who have perished to add their point of light to our sky ... These road-makers on every hand enrich us. We must extend the area of life and multiply our relations. We are as much gainers by finding a property in the old earth as by acquiring a new planet. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

All of a sudden we were out of the lot and on the highway next to the mountains, flying. I put my hand out the window, and then I put my head out. I felt my hair blow behind me and the air rush into me, and I forgot for a moment to worry about how I was supposed to be. Because I was perfect right then. Everything was. And Sky was a perfect driver. Not scary. Just steady. And fast. I wanted the music to last forever. ~ Ava Dellaira

The day Flag went on tour forever we set the loading dock on fire. It was a special kind of concrete that burned.

Rollins was too pissed for a tour kickoff set. We just stood on the roof til it started falling in, watching their backs get small in the heatshimmer. After a while there's just four black bars against the road. You can't ever tell what comes true. ~ Noah Wareness

You will never bore me, Nelissuna. I can see that fact straight to my soul."
"But I can clearly see you being easily capable of boring me to tears," she countered archly, trying to free her trapped hand with a determined tug. He was even stronger than he looked, she thought.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, noticing her struggle and insults about the same way he would notice a passing speck of dust.
"Why can you not tell me? You are the medic, are you not?" She exhaled sharply. "Will you please let go of me?"
"No."
Legna growled in frustration at him.
"You are so obnoxious!" she accused. "I hate it when you do that!"
"Do what? Answer a question? If it disturbs you, I will ignore your questions from now on."
"You know exactly what I mean. I hate it when you lay down the word no as if it were the last letter of the law. And do not think I do not know that you are doing it on purpose just to irritate me, because I do!"
"Then you should cease giving me the opportunity to say it," he told her, his tone so matter-of-fact that she almost screamed at him. "And you should be careful of those little growls you insist on making, Neliss. They are . . . very stimulating."
Suddenly Legna forgot all about trading barbs with him and became very aware of his warmth above and below her trapped hand, the solid strength she leaned up against so cozily, and the very clear hunger that was brewing under the humor he had been using to hide it.
N ~ Jacquelyn Frank

I gradually realized that I was seeing another example of creative ebb, another step by another art on the road that may indeed end in extinction. ~ Stephen King

WITHIN A FEW HOURS of the noon announcement, people all around North Korea began converging on statues of Kim Il-sung to pay their respects. By one frequently cited figure there are 34,000 statues of the Great Leader in the country and at each of them loyal subjects prostrated themselves with grief. People didn't want to be alone with their grief. They burst out of their homes and ran toward the statues, which were in fact the spiritual centers of each city.

Chongjin is home to some 500,000 people, but has only one twenty-five-foot bronze statue, at Pohang Square. People filled the vast square, and spilled over into the front lawn of the Revolutionary History Museum directly to the east. The crowds extended down the wide Road No. 1 all the way to the Provincial Theater and radiated out into the surrounding streets like spokes from a wheel. From above, the people looked like a line of ants streaming toward a common goal.

Hysteria and crowds make for a lethal combination. People started to surge forward, knocking down those in line, trampling people already prostrate on the ground, flattening the carefully trimmed hedges. From blocks away, the noise from the square carried through the humid air and sounded like the roar of a riot. The weather alternated between violent downpours and searing heat. No one was allowed to wear a hat or carry a parasol. The sun beat down on the bare heads and the wet sidewalks turned the streets into a roiling steambath. Peop ~ Barbara Demick