Strolling Quotes

I think falling in love should come with a warning label: CAUTION - side effects may include breaking up, accompanied by heartache, severe mood swings, withdrawal from people and life itself, wasted hours obsessing over bitter reflections, a need to destroy something (preferably something expensive that shatters), uncontrollable tear ducts, stress, a loss of appetite (Cheetos and Dr. Pepper exempt), a bleak and narrow outlook on the future, and an overall hatred of everyone and everything (especially all the happy couples you see strolling hand-in-hand, placed on your path only to exacerbate your isolation and misery). All above reactions will be intensified with the consumption of one or more alcoholic beverages. ~ Katie Kacvinsky

You get that one chance; and damn it, you've got to take it! If there's one lesson I know I will take with me for eternity, its that there are those things that might happen only once, those chances that come walking down the street, strolling out of a café; if you don't let go and take them, they really could get away! We can get so washed out with a mindset of entitlement– the universe will do everything for us to ensure our happiness– that we forget why we came here! We came here to grab, to take, to give, to have! Not to wait! Nobody came here to wait! So, what makes anyone think that destiny will keep on knocking over and over again? It could, but what if it doesn't? You go and you take the chance that you get; even if it makes you look stupid, insane, or whorish! Because it just might not come back again. You could wait a lifetime to see if it will...but I don't think you should. ~ C. JoyBell C.

Jay showed up after school with a bouquet of flowers and an armful of DVDs, although Violet couldn't have cared less about either . . . he was all she wanted. She couldn't help the electric thrill of excitement she felt when he came strolling in, grinning at her foolishly as if he hadn't seen her in weeks rather than hours. He scooped her up from the couch and dropped her onto his lap as he sat down where she had been just a moment before. He was careful to arrange her ankle on a neatly stacked pile of pillows beside him.
He stubbornly refused to hide his affection for her, and if Violet hadn't known better she would have sword that he was going out of his way to make her self-conscious in her own home. Fortunately her parents were giving them some space for the time being, and they were left by themselves most of the time.
"Did you miss me?" he asked arrogantly as he gently brushed his lips over hers, not bothering to wait for an answer.
She smiled while she kissed him back, loving the topsy-turvy feeling that her stomach always got when he was so close to her. She wound her arms around his neck, forgetting that she was in the middle of the family room and not hidden away in the privacy of her bedroom.
He pulled away from her, suddenly serious. "You know, we didn't get much time alone yesterday. And I didn't get a chance to tell you . . ."
Violet was mesmerized by the thick timbre of his deep voice. She barely heard his words but rather concentrated ~ Kimberly Derting

I would walk along the quais when I had finished work or when I was trying to think something out. It was easier to think if I was walking and doing something or seeing people doing something that they understood. ~ Ernest Hemingway,

One night I was standing on Third Avenue playing my guitar, when this big Irish policeman came strolling by, and stopped to listen to my singing and playing. When I was done, he politely handed me a ticket for disturbing the peace, while at the same time telling me how much he liked my voice. I wish I still had that ticket. ~ Frank Stallone

I believe in the magic of books. I believe that during certain periods in our lives we are drawn to particular books
whether it's strolling down the aisles of a bookshop with no idea whatsoever of what it is that we want to read and suddenly finding the most perfect, most wonderfully suitable book staring us right in the face. Unblinking. Or a chance meeting with a stranger or friend who recommends a book we would never ordinarily reach for. Books have the ability to find their own way into our lives. ~ Cecelia Ahern

I know the joy of fishes in the river through my own joy, as I go walking along the same river. ~ Zhuangzi

Philosophy, then, is that thinkins with which one can start nothing and about which housemaids necessarily laugh. Such a definition of philosophy is not a mere joke but is something to think over. We shall fo well to remember occasionally that by our strolling we can fall into a well whereby we may not reach ground for quite some time. ~ Martin Heidegger

We are acknowledging the interconnectedness of our lives with other animals. Their well-being is not separate from ours. On the contrary, we share the same fate.
Moving forward, how we choose to be with animals will depend on how willing we are to be with them. Not as predator and prey, not as master and servant. But as kin, as partners, and as friends, strolling shoulder to shoulder along the dips and rises that stretch before us. We lose nothing when we do so. What we gain is our health, our happiness, our humanity. And friendships that are irreplaceable. ~ Aysha Akhtar

Let's go Matt; we aren't strolling through Central Park here. ~ Joe Teti

On evenings like this, when the streets below were filled with couples strolling, and laughing people spilled out of pubs, already planning meals, nights out, trips to clubs, something ached inside me; something ~ Jojo Moyes

I believed that this was the beauty of being with a stranger. Of sharing things with them. There was zero chance of them strolling back into your life and screwing it up for you. ~ Jannat Bhat

The path that we are all called to travel is never the easiest path," said Vohro as he strode up to the boy. "If ever you find yourself strolling down the road of life, know that you are truly lost."

-R. Janvier del Valle, The Abandoned Asylum of the Good Doctor Fangtasahd ~ R. Janvier Del Valle

I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off. ~ Sylvia Plath

It is one of the blessings of wilderness life that it shows us how few things we need in order to be perfectly happy. ~ Horace Kephart

Nobody ever," said the Dowager sorrowfully, "credits me with normal thought processes. When a mysterious man creates a royal scandal on the banks of the Lake of Menteith with the keenest ears in Scotland strolling utterly oblivious - by her own account - in the locality, I begin to wonder. I also wonder when a delicately reared child sends a court into fits with a riddle which I invented myself. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

Me and my shadow Strolling down the avenue Oh, me and my shadow Not a soul to tell our troubles to And when it's twelve o'clock we climb the stairs We never knock 'cause nobody's there Just me and my shadow All alone and feeling blue ~ Billy Rose

If earls' daughters were allowed to marry whom they please, we'd all be ruled by strolling minstrels and dark-eyed outlaws. ~ Ken Follett

It's always fun to walk down the street with or behind a really beautiful woman, for no reason other than to see how the world reacts to them. ~ Jonathan Carroll

Come with me, come with me,
Come with me, for these limbs are meek
Which hold together time's encumbered knee;
Which playfully caress its withered cheek;
Come with me until the Muezzin is done calling,
Come with me until the moon is done strolling,
Come with me until the rains appear in summer,
Come with me until these rose faces turn glummer,
Come with me unto the end of this rhyme,
Come with me unto the birth of that chime,
Come with me, come with me,
Come with me and with my impertinent plea. ~ Ashfaq Saraf

He went to look closely at the painting, which portrayed a parade of fat white geese strolling past the doorway of a cottage.
"Someday I'll be able to afford real art," Garrett said, coming to stand beside him. "In the meantime, we'll have to make do with this."
Ethan's attention was drawn to the tiny initials in the corner of the work: G.G. A slow smile broke over his face. "You painted it?"
"Art class, at boarding school," she admitted. "I wasn't bad at sketching, but the only subject I could manage to paint adequately was geese. At one point I tried to expand my repertoire to ducks, but those earned lower marks, so it was back to geese after that."
Ethan smiled, imagining her as a studious schoolgirl with long braids. The light of a glass-globe parlor lamp slid across the tidy pinned-up weight of her hair, bringing out gleams of red and gold. He'd never seen anything like her skin, fine and powerless, with a faint glow like a blush-colored garden rose.
"What gave you the idea to paint geese in the first place?" he asked.
"There was a goose pond across from the school," Garrett said, staring absently at the picture. "Sometimes I saw Miss Primrose at the front windows, watching with binoculars. One day I dared to ask her what she found so interesting about geese, and she told me they had a capacity for attachment and grief that rivaled humans. They mated for life, she said. If a goose was injured, the gander would stay with her even if the rest ~ Lisa Kleypas

I squeezed through a horde of gum-snapping girls I recognized as seniors from my school.
"He did not say that!"
"Yes, he did! And you wouldn't believe what she said!"
Please, someone tell me I wouldn't be that annoying if I had girlfriends.
"Sure, you will be."
I whipped around and nearly got a faceful of cotton candy. I moved the purple sugar cloud to the side and glared at my mother. She wore a white, short-sleeved blouse and a patchwork skirt.
"You have to stop listening in on my thoughts without my permission, Mom. It's not cool."
She shoved a piece of cotton candy in my mouth to shut me up. "I didn't do it on purpose, Clarity. I was strolling along listening in to the crowd."
"Pick up anything interesting?"
"Actually, I did. That detective's son can't stop checking out your legs. He loves this little pink dress you've got on. So much so that he's actually mad at himself for it." She shook her head.
I blushed. "Did you happen to pick up anything important?"
"Like a man walking along thinking, 'I killed Victoria Happel'?"
"Exactly."
"No such luck. But dear, people don't wander around thinking about their biggest secrets all the time. The killer could be standing right next to me and all I might pick up from him is how he wants to buy some barbequed chicken."
"Have you seen Billy Rawlinson or Frankie Creedon?" I asked.
Distaste turned her mouth down. "No. Why are you looking for those scoundrels?"
Kim Harrington

Of course it is of no use to direct our steps to the woods, if they do not carry us thither. I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit ... What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods? ~ Henry David Thoreau

She had several books she'd been wanting to read, but instead she sprawled out on the couch surrounded by pillows and blankets, and spent the hours flipping channels between Judge Judy, The People's Court, Maury, and Jerry Springer, and rounded out her afternoon with Dr. Phil and Oprah. All in all, it was a complete waste of a day. At least until school got out.
Jay showed up after school with a bouquet of flowers and an armful of DVDs, although Violet couldn't have card less about either...he was all she wanted. She couldn't help the electric thrill of excitement she felt when he came strolling in, grinning at her foolishly as if he hadn't seen her in weeks rather than hours. He scooped her up from the couch and dropped her onto his lap as he sat down where she had been just a moment before. He was careful to arrange her ankle on a neatly stacked pile of pillows beside him.
He stubbornly refused to hide his affection for her, and if Violet hadn't known better she would have sworn that he was going out of his way to make her self-conscious in her own home. Fortunately her parents were giving them some space for the time being, and they were left by themselves most of the time.
"Did you miss me?" he asked arrogantly as he gently brushed his lips over hers, not bothering to wait for an answer.
She smiled while she kissed him back, loving the topsy-turvy feeling that her stomach always got when he was so close to her. She wound her arms around his neck, forge ~ Kimberly Derting

In the inhalation and exhalation there is an energy and a lively divine spirit, since He, through his spirit supports the breath of life, giving courage to the people who are in the earth and spirit to those who walk on it. ~ Michael Servetus

Complexity excites the mind, and order rewards it. In the garden, one finds both, including vanishingly small orders too complex to spot, and orders so vast the mind struggles to embrace them. ~ Diane Ackerman

You're all so glued to your phones, tablets, and computers that life isn't even running away from you at this point; it's strolling, taking its own sweet time because it knows damn well you're not going to pull your nose out of your Facebook page long enough to realize it's already gone. ~ Corey Taylor

Walking is also an ambulation of mind. ~ Gretel Ehrlich

Some men like to make a little garden out of life and walk down a path. ~ Jean Anouilh

For a strolling damsel a doubtful reputation bears. ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

A path is a prior interpretation of the best way to traverse a landscape. ~ Rebecca Solnit

I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
plates of blood behind his head, I
see my mother with a few light books at her hip
standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks with the
wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its
sword-tips black in the May air,
they are about to graduate, they are about to get married,
they are kids, they are dumb, all they know is they are
innocent, they would never hurt anybody.
I want to go up to them and say Stop,
don't do it--she's the wrong woman,
he's the wrong man, you are going to do things
you cannot imagine you would ever do,
you are going to do bad things to children,
you are going to suffer in ways you never heard of,
you are going to want to die. I want to go
up to them there in the late May sunlight and say it,
her hungry pretty blank face turning to me,
her pitiful beautiful untouched body,
his arrogant handsome blind face turning to me,
his pitiful beautiful untouched body,
but I don't do it. I want to live. I
take them up like the male and female
paper dolls and bang them together
at the hips like chips of flint as if to
strike sparks from them, I say
Do what you are going to do, and I will tell about it ~ Sharon Olds

The doctors of antiquity have affirmed that love is a passion that resembles a melancholy disease. The physician Rasis prescribed, therefore, in order to recover, coitus, fasting, drunkenness, and walking. ~ Marsilio Ficino

There's some end at last for the man who follows a path; mere rambling is interminable. ~ Seneca The Elder

The animal is making quite a mess," the butler droned.
"Are you referring to the monkey, or to my nephew?" Fennington drawled, strolling into the room.
"Hm. How long did you lurk outside the room waiting forthat opportunity?" Bennett asked ~ Suzanne Enoch

Lex jogged up to her uncle. "Why are we heading for DeMyse if they're just going to arrest us the minute we get there?"
"They won't. The mayor and I go way back. Trust me, you'll be safe."
"I have trusted you implicitly ever since I came to Croak, and look where it's gotten me."
"Strolling through Death Valley on Thanksgiving," he said with a wink. "Don't say I never show you a good time. ~ Gina Damico

Mostly, two miles an hour is good going. ~ Colin Fletcher

Frankly, I have no sex appeal. Just strolling in Los Angeles, London, or Paris, you will find a bunch of young guys like me. I am not James Dean. ~ Robert Pattinson

And was it not perhaps more childlike and human to lead a Goldmund-life, more courageous, more noble perhaps in the end to abandon oneself to the cruel stream of reality, to chaos, to commit sins and accept their bitter consequences rather than live a clean life with washed hands outside the world, laying out a lonely harmonious thought-garden, strolling sinlessly among one's sheltered flower beds. Perhaps it was harder, braver and nobler to wander through forests and along the highways with torn shoes, to suffer sun and rain, hunger and need, to play with the joys of the senses and pay for them with suffering.
At any rate, Goldmund had shown him that a man destined for high things can dip into the lowest depths of the bloody, drunken chaos of life, and soil himself with much dust and blood, without becoming small and common, without killing the divine spark within himself, that he can err through the thickest darkness without extinguishing the divine light and the creative force inside the shrine of his soul. ~ Hermann Hesse

Travelers, there is no path, paths are made by walking. ~ Antonio Machado

The lessons we learn from the wild become the etiquette of freedom. ~ Gary Snyder

I had never had a direct experience of the holy in my life, for all that I tried to serve my god as seemed best to me, according to my gifts as we are taught. Except for Hallana. She was the only miracle that ever happened to me. The woman seems vastly oversupplied with gods. At one point, I accused her of having stolen my share, and she accused me of marrying her solely to sustain a proper average. The gods walk through her dreams as though strolling in a garden. I just have dreams of running lost through my old seminary, with no clothes, late for an examination of a class I did not know I had, and the like. ~ Lois McMaster Bujold

The near dark streets where Friday night's business began to accomplish itself, strolling couples, arm in arm, girls bright as just pricked flowers, halfdrunk belligerent men herded homeward by fierce women with bitter persecuted faces ... ~ William Gay

One of her sandals had broken. It hung, hopeless, from her left ankle. They hadn't been designed for frantic running through the forests. They were for dancing on the terraces outside the palace, for strolling manicured paths through the Red Gardens. They were designed to be pretty and useless. Like her. ~ Imogen Keeper

A man walked across the moors from Razorback to Lancre town without seeing a single marshlight, head-less dog, strolling tree, ghostly coach or comet, and had to be taken in by a tavern and given a drink to unsteady his nerves. ~ Terry Pratchett

It is not talking but walking that will bring us to heaven. ~ Matthew Henry

Walks work for me. I enter some arena that is neither conscious or unconscious. ~ Mary Oliver

Who is it from?" Savona asked.
I looked up at him, trying to divine whether the secret knowledge lay behind his expression of interest.
"Of course she cannot tell," Tamara said, her tone mock chiding--a masterpiece of innuendo, I realized. "But…perhaps a hint, Countess?"
"I can't, because it's a secret to me, too." I looked around. Nothing but interest in all the faces, from Savona's friendly skepticism to Shevraeth's polite indifference. Shevraeth looked more tired than ever. "The best kind, because I get the ring and don't have to do anything about it!"
Everyone laughed.
"Now that," Savona said, taking my arm, "is a direct challenge, is it not? Geral? Danric? I take you to witness." We started strolling along the pathway. "But first, to rid myself of this mysterious rival. Have you kissed anyone since yesterday? Winked? Sent a posy-of-promise?" He went on with so many ridiculous questions I couldn't stop laughing.
The others had fallen in behind. Conversations crossed the group, preventing it from breaking into smaller groups. Before too long Tamara brought us all together again. She was now the center of attention as she summoned Savona to her side to admire a new bracelet.
This was fine with me. I did not like being the center, and I felt jangled and uneasy. Had I betrayed myself in any important way? Had I been properly polite to Shevraeth? The few times he spoke I was careful to listen and to smile just like the others.
When I fou ~ Sherwood Smith

Then, when people saw you strolling around at high noon holding your rosary beads, they'd think, 'Well, that can't be a vampire. ~ Jeaniene Frost

The inorganic world out of which life has emerged and into which, in season, it falls back, possesses the latent capacity for endless ramification and diversity. A few chance elements which appear thoroughly stable in their reactions dress up as for a masked ball and go strolling, hunted and hunter together. Their forms alter through the ages. They are shape-shifters, role-changers. Like flying lizard or ancestral men, they run their course and vanish, never to return. The chemicals of which their bodies were composed lie all about us but by no known magic can we return a lost species to life. Life, in fact, is the product of singular and unreturning contingencies of which the inorganic world disclaims knowledge. Only its elements, swept up in the mysterious living vortex, evoke new forms, new habits, and new thoughts. ~ Loren Eiseley

The most evident distinguishing sign is man's organization of his life according primarily to mythic, and only secondarily economic, aims and laws. Food and drink, reproduction and nest-building, it is true, play formidable roles in the lives no less of men than of chimpanzees. But what of the economics of the Pyramids, the cathedrals of the Middle Ages, Hindus starving to death with edible cattle strolling all around them, or the history of Israel, from the time of Saul to right now? ~ Joseph Campbell

When I walk with you I feel as if I had a flower in my buttonhole. ~ William Makepeace Thackeray

The wilderness is a place of rest - not in the sense of being motionless, for the lure, after all, is to move, to round the next bend. The rest comes in the isolation from distractions, in the slowing of the daily centrifugal forces that keep us off balance. ~ David Douglas

Just to be seen strolling to or from a helicopter on the White House lawn, shouting an evasive answer to Sam Donaldson, must seem to the Reagans not quite satisfactory enough of a 7 PM presence, and this inane scene certainly galls the press. ~ Thomas B. Griffith

I suppose there has been nothing like the airports since the age of the stage-stops - nothing quite as lonely, as sombre-silent. The red-brick depots were built right into the towns they marked - people didn't get off at those isolated stations unless they lived there. But airports lead you way back in history like oases, like the stops on the great trade routes. The sight of air travellers strolling in ones and twos into midnight airports will draw a small crowd any night up or two. The young people look at the planes, the older ones look at the passengers with a watchful incredulity. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

I was in Sarasota, Florida, on a spring-break trip with my friends Bruce and Karen Moore. Bruce and I were waiting on the beach for the rest of our crew when and a man and his grown kids came strolling up the sand. They looked at me for a minute, sort of hesitating, and then asked, "Would you mind taking a picture?" "Sure," I said, and quickly arranged all of us in a line, putting myself in the middle and motioning to Bruce to come snap the photo. Right about that time, the father said, "Actually, we were wondering if you could take a picture just of us." An understandable mistake on my part, but really embarrassing. Bruce has had a field day reminding me of that one ever since.

Lesson learned: Never assume anything about your own importance. It's a great big world, and all of us are busy living our lives. None of us knows all the time and effort that another person puts into his or her passion. ~ Amy Grant

I thought of myself as an itinerant brain
the equivalent of a strolling player of Elizabethan times, or else a troubadour, clutching my university degree like a cheap lute. ~ Margaret Atwood

The god's expression was calm and content, as if he'd just come home from a lovely evening strolling through the Fields of Punishment, enjoying the screams of the damned. ~ Rick Riordan

Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right. ~ Soren Kierkegaard

Fare well we call to hearth and hall
Though wind may blow and rain may fall
We must away ere break of day
Over the 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 wither then we cannot tell
With foes ahead behind us dread
Beneath the sky shall be our bed
Until at last our toil be sped
Our journey done, our errand sped
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day! ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

Or in the forest; mingling various walks with the splash and murmur of the waves, and the solemn wind-anthem among the tree-tops. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

It's a curious fact, because Friday is a day of work and Sunday is a day for pleasure, so you would expect people to enjoy Sunday more, right? But we don't. It's not because we really like being in the office and can't stand strolling in the park and having a lazy brunch. We prefer Friday to Sunday because Friday brings with it the thrill of anticipating the weekend ahead. In contrast, on Sunday the only thing to look forward to is work on Monday. ~ Tali Sharot

Music heard with you
at home or in the car
or even while strolling
didn't always sound as pristine
as piano tuners might wish -
it was sometimes mixed with voices
full of fear and pain,
and then that music
was more than music,
it was our living
and our dying. ~ Adam Zagajewski

For that moment at least they seemed to give up external plans, theories, and codes, even the inescapable romantic curiosity about one another, to indulge in being simply and purely young, to share that sense of the world's affliction, that outgoing sorrow at the spectacle of Our Human Condition which anyone this age regards as reward or gratuity for having survived adolescence.
For them the music was sweet and painful, the strolling chains of tourists like a Dance of Death. They stood on the curb, gazing at one another, jostled against by hawkers and sightseers, lost as much perhaps in that bond of youth as in the depths of the eyes each contemplated. ~ Thomas Pynchon

It makes me angry that you hate yourself for something that somebody else made you do. Don't let them take any more. Don't you do that Andres."
"None of this does any good, Grace. All these visits, all this talking, all this strolling down fucking memory lane. It doesn't help. And you know why it doesn't help? Because everything that's happened - it lives so deep inside me that the only way I can ever get rid of it is to die."
"That's not true, Andres."
"It is true. Happiness isn't in the cards for everyone, Grace. ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

Four times I was honked at for having the temerity to proceed through town without the benefit of metal. ~ Bill Bryson

I know I found his lips and let him caress me without realizing that I, too, was crying and didn't know why. That dawn, and all the ones that followed in the two weeks I spent with Julian, we made love to one another on the floor, never saying a word. Later, sitting in a cafe or strolling through the streets, I would look into his eyes and know, without any need to question him, that he still loved Penelope. I remember that during those days I learned to hate that seventeen-year-old girl (for Penelope was always seventeen to me) whom I had never met and who now haunted my dreams. I invented excuses for cabling Cabestany to prolong my stay. I no longer cared whether I lost my job or the grey existence I had left behind in Barcelona. I have often asked myself whether my life was so empty when I arrived in Paris that I fell into Julian's arms - like Irene Marceau's girls, who, despite themselves, craved for affection. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

i've been holding you
in heavy sighs

and i don't know if it is
a good thing.
but there is so much

more
to this weight that keeps me
together. keeps me warm

like summer

strolling in
late

but at last. ~ Vinati Bhola

There is a life-force within your soul, seek that life. ~ Rumi

I was the world in which I walked. ~ Wallace Stevens

Tenways showed his rotten teeth. 'Fucking make me.'
'I'll give it a try.' A man came strolling out of the dark, just his sharp jaw showing in the shadows of his hood, boots crunching heedless through the corner of the fire and sending a flurry of sparks up around his legs. Very tall, very lean and he looked like he was carved out of wood. He was chewing meat from a chicken bone in one greasy hand and in the other, held loose under the crosspiece, he had the biggest sword Beck had ever seen, shoulder-high maybe from point to pommel, its sheath scuffed as a beggar's boot but the wire on its hilt glinting with the colours of the fire-pit. He sucked the last shred of meat off his bone with a noisy slurp, and he poked at all the drawn steel with the pommel of his sword, long grip clattering against all those blades. 'Tell me you lot weren't working up to a fight without me. You know how much I love killing folk. I shouldn't, but a man has to stick to what he's good at. So how's this for a recipe…' He worked the bone around between finger and thumb, then flicked it at Tenways so it bounced off his chain mail coat. 'You go back to fucking sheep and I'll fill the graves.'
Tenways licked his bloody top lip. 'My fight ain't with you, Whirrun.'
And it all came together. Beck had heard songs enough about Whirrun of Bligh, and even hummed a few himself as he fought his way through the logpile. Cracknut Whirrun. How he'd been given the Father of Swords. How he'd killed his f ~ Joe Abercrombie

I'm the walkingest girl around. I like to work at it - really get my heart pounding. ~ Amy Yasbeck

The man with the knapsack is never lost. No matter whither he may stray, his food and shelter are right with him, and home is wherever he may choose to stop. ~ Horace Kephart

Everyone can identify with a fragrant garden, with beauty of sunset, with the quiet of nature, with a warm and cozy cottage. ~ Thomas Kincade

All paths lead nowhere, so it is important to choose a path that has heart. ~ Carlos Castaneda

If a walker is indeed an individualist there is nowhere he can't go at dawn and not many places he can't go at noon. But just as it demeans life to live alongside a great river you can no longer swim in or drink from, to be crowded into safer areas and hours takes much of the gloss off walking - one sport you shouldn't have to reserve a time and a court for. ~ Edward Hoagland

The chorus was filing on to be A Busy Marketplace, in which various jugglers, gypsies, sword swallowers and gaily dressed yokels would be entirely unsurprised at an apparently drunken baritone strolling on to sing an enormous amount of plot at a passing tenor. ~ Terry Pratchett

The supreme contemporary example of such an inability to feel evil is of course Walt Whitman. "His favorite occupation," writes his disciple, Dr. Bucke "seemed to be strolling or sauntering about outdoors by himself, looking at the grass, the trees, the flowers, the vistas of light, the varying aspects of the sky, and listening to the birds, the crickets, the tree frogs, and all the hundreds of natural sounds. ~ William James

The idea ... seemed about as likely as a shark strolling out of the sea on its fins to ask for a bowl of soup. ~ Brian Staveley

If you come to think of it, what a queer thing Life is! So unlike anything else, don't you know, if you see what I mean. At any moment you may be strolling peacefully along, and all the time Life's waiting around the corner to fetch you one. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

Good walking leaves no track behind it. ~ Laozi

She sang that night like - I cannot say like an angel, for her songs were all of champagne suppers and strolling in the Burlington Arcade; perhaps, then, like a fallen angel - or yet again like a falling one: she sang like a falling angel might sing with the bounds of heaven fresh burst behind him, and hell still distant and unguessed. And as she did so, I sang with her - not loudly and carelessly like the rest of the crowd, but softly, almost secretly, as if she might hear me the better if I whispered rather than bawled. ~ Sarah Waters

It is possible to offer fervent prayer even while walking in public or strolling alone or seated in your shop ... while buying or selling ... or even while cooking. ~ Saint John Chrysostom

The memory slowly faded away. I could feel tears strolling down my snout from my eyes. I missed my father ... He did what he could to save me that day. ~ Grace Fiorre

St. Augustine is not only the oldest continuously-occupied European settlement on the American continent, it is also perhaps the most haunted city in the United States. Seemingly every spot in this city has some ghostly hidden history, right below the surface. Just by strolling through the historic streets you can hear the whispers of the long-dead. ~ James Caskey

Strolling down a white-graveled walk to the cliff above the ocean, he let his eyes rove aimlessly over the expanse of sea and sand: The icy-looking whitecaps, the blinking, faraway sails of boats, the sweeping, constantly searching gulls. Desolation. Eternal, infinite. Like Dostoevski's conception of eternity, a fly circling about a privy, the few signs of life only emphasized the loneliness. ~ Jim Thompson

Society as we know it is almost a conspiracy against human health. One of the main forces working to counteract that is the trailsman. ~ Stewart Udall

The miracle is not to walk on water. The miracle is to walk on earth. ~ Linji Yixuan

Now what was tiring had disappeared and only the beauty remained.
Saturday found him for the first time strolling alone through Zurich, breathing in the heady smell of his freedom. New adventures hid around each corner. The future was again a secret. ~ Milan Kundera

I haven't got any special religion this morning. My God is the God of Walkers. If you walk hard enough, you probably don't need any other god. ~ Bruce Chatwin

A garden should feel like a walk in the woods. ~ Dan Kiley

You know on those nature shows when the cute little meerkat is strolling along on its four cute little meerkat legs to get back to her burrow where all her little meerkat politics, drama and family await her, and this big-ass eagle comes swooping overhead…? The smart little meerkat runs for cover and waits that big-ass eagle out. Some time passes, and the meerkat finally decides the eagle got bored and went off to scare the crap out of some other cute little meerkat. So, the meerkat crawls out from her hidey-hole to carry merrily on her way. And just when that little meerkat thought she was home free, that big-ass eagle swoops down and catches her in his big-ass claws. Well… I know exactly how that little meerkat felt… ~ Samantha Young

Details of the many walks I made along the crest have blurred, now, into a pleasing tapestry of grass and space and sunlight. ~ Colin Fletcher

Walks. The body advances, while the mind flutters around it like a bird. ~ Jules Renard

Earth is a homicide victim. We lose our children. There are wars. Disease. And God comes strolling by like a cosmic Billie Burke. ~ William Peter Blatty

Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake. ~ J.K. Rowling

If you don't know where you are, you don't know who you are. ~ Wendell Berry

I felt instantly at home, and wanted only to dismiss Alistair, along with the rest of Justice Hall, that I might have a closer look at the shelves.I had to content myself instead with a strolling perusal, my hands locked behind my back to keep them from reaching out for Le Morte D'Arthur, Caxton 1485 or the delicious little red-and-gilt Bestiary, MS Circa 1250 or ... If I took one down, I should be lost. So I looked, like a hungry child in a sweet shop, and trailed out on my guide's heels with one longing backward glance. ~ Laurie R. King

So it was that my most impressionable years of boyhood were spent gazing at not a whale, but a whale's penis. Whenever I tired of strolling through the chill aisles of the aquarium, I'd steal off to my place on the bench of the high-ceilinged stillness of the exhibition room and spend hours on end there contemplating this whale's penis. ~ Haruki Murakami

Objectively, class differences in accent, dress, manners, and general style of life are very much smaller; and one cannot, strolling about the street or travelling on a train, instantly identify a person's social background as one can in England. Subjectively, social relations are more natural and egalitarian, and less marked by deference, submissiveness, or snobbery, as one quickly discovers from the cab-driver, the barman, the air-hostess and the drug-store assistant. ~ Anthony Crosland