There is nothing like the thrill of walking through the jungle looking for a tiger and knowing they could be watching you already.
I don't know what my path is yet. I'm just walking on it.
Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.
I look my best when I'm totally free, on holiday, walking on the beach.
If you don't like the road you're walking, start paving another one.
Some folks look at me and see a certain swagger, which in Texas is called 'walking.'
I firmly believe that everyone deserves to live within walking distance of either beauty or convenience, if not both. (48)
Competition between footmen gave way during the second half of the 18th century to men racing against time over long distances. 'Pedestrians' (as the walkers were called) could win a very handsome fee for walking dozens -- or even hundreds -- of miles within a proscribed time. Side bets were, of course, very welcome.One of the more popular goals involved covering at least 100 miles in less than 24 hours. Those meeting this goal were (and still are) called Centurions.(quoted by Phil Howell in A Brief History of Racewalking in the United States, North American Racewalking Foundation)
If I could not walk far and fast, I think I should just explode and perish.
But the beauty is in the walking -- we are betrayed by destinations.
When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep on walking.
Beauty surrounds us, but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it.
To walk because it is good for you warps the sould, just as it warps the soul for a man to talk for hire or because he think it his duty.
I would rather walk with a friend in the dark than walk alone in the light.
That's the best thing about walking, the journey itself. It doesn't matter much whether you get where you're going or not. You'll get there anyway. Every good hike brings you eventually back home.
Her in the walk must arise from the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn--that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness--that season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.
I can sometimes sit for two hours in a room with almost no thought. Just complete stillness. Sometimes when I go for walks, there's also complete stillness; there's no mental labeling of sense perceptions. There's simply a sense of awe or wonder or openness, and that's beautiful.
Few people know how to take a walk. The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, good humor, vast curiosity, good speech, good silence and nothing too much.
Happiness, Success, Excellence: They are not something you get for knowing the path; they are something you experience by walking it.
Walking and talking - that seemed a very odd way of spending an afternoon.
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