When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
The passion for travelling is, I believe, instinctive in some natures. We have seen men persevere in their enterprises against the most formidable obstacles; and, without means or friends, and even ignorant of the languages of the various countries through which they passed, pursue their perilous journeys into remote places, until, like the knight in the Arabian tale, they succeeded in snatching a memorial from every shrine they visited.
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The passion for travelling is, I believe, instinctive in some natures. We have seen men persevere in their enterprises against the most formidable obstacles; and, without means or friends, and even ignorant of the languages of the various countries through which they passed, pursue their perilous journeys into remote places, until, like the knight in the Arabian tale, they succeeded in snatching a memorial from every shrine they visited.
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Of the gladdest moments in human life, methinks, is the departure upon a distant journey into unknown lands. Shaking off with one mighty effort the fetters of Habit, the leaden weight of Routine, the cloak of many Cares and the slavery of Civilization, man feels once more happy.
The Forest is dark, dearie, The Forest is dark;The moment you think that you__e lost in the woods, then you are.Do not lose your way, dearie, Do not lose your way;The monsters are lurking not far from the path should you stray.Things aren__ what they seem, dearie, Things aren__ what they seem;Kind grins are bared teeth; Please don__ answer the calls from the trees.Do not pay them heed, dearie, Do not pay them heed;Hear footsteps behind you, beware but don__ fret, they__e just checking.The air is alive, dearie, The air is alive;To help and to hinder, but it__ how some learned to survive.These woods are too old, dearie, These woods are too old;Watch for crimson wraiths, keep your strength and wits close should you go.Deep in the Forest.
_, Sunlight! The most precious gold to be found on Earth.
Paradise was always over there, a day__ sail away. But it__ a funny thing, escapism. You can go far and wide and you can keep moving on and on through places and years, but you never escape your own life. I, finally, knew where my life belonged. Home.
Walking on a path of uncertainties, Shuffling on the probabilities of uncertainties, Waging on the possibilities of uncertainties, Waiting for the occurrences of uncertainties,Solving the mysteries of wandering uncertainties,We move, lead and live.