Footpath Quotes
Quotes tagged as "footpath"
Showing 1-5 of 5
“Paths are the habits of a landscape. They are acts of consensual making. It's hard to create a footpath on your own...Paths connect. This is their first duty and their chief reason for being. They relate places in a literal sense, and by extension they relate people.
Paths are consensual, too, because without common care and common practice they disappear: overgrown by vegetation, ploughed up or built over (through they may persist in the memorious substance of land law). Like sea channels that require regular dredging to stay open, paths NEED walking.”
― The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot
Paths are consensual, too, because without common care and common practice they disappear: overgrown by vegetation, ploughed up or built over (through they may persist in the memorious substance of land law). Like sea channels that require regular dredging to stay open, paths NEED walking.”
― The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot
“The sun glowed over them, throwing a miniature shadow on the road. Warm air was accompanying the heating of the day and the
fluttering of leaves made multiple shadows dancing on the footpath. They could imagine fairies in the sky, dancing with the air, throwing their shadows near their plastic home.”
― Wrinkles in Memory
fluttering of leaves made multiple shadows dancing on the footpath. They could imagine fairies in the sky, dancing with the air, throwing their shadows near their plastic home.”
― Wrinkles in Memory
“jog on, jog on the footpath way, / And merrily hent the stile-a; / A jovial heart goes all the day, / Your sad tires in a mile-a”
― The Winter's Tale
― The Winter's Tale
“Back at the cottage we explored the topography of my body; twigs in my hair, calves striped red and my skirt smudged in meadowtones. The forest underlined me, accentuated me, illustrated me. I felt alive in that midnight village whose dark places left their signatures on my skin, whose bites still hummed around my wrists. I didn’t notice till then the thousand nettle stings rising like pearls; burning bracelets that my love kissed and rubbed with dock leaves; a folk remedy painting my pulse points green; honorary stalks.”
― Dreaming in Night Vision: A Story in Vignettes
― Dreaming in Night Vision: A Story in Vignettes
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