Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. A mile becomes a long way, two miles literally considerable, ten miles whopping, fifty miles at the very limits of conception. The world, you realize, is enormous in a way that only you and a small community of fellow hikers know. Planetary scale is your little secret.

Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It’s quite wonderful, really.

You have no engagements, commitments, obligations, or duties; no special ambitions and only the smallest, least complicated of wants; you exist in a tranquil tedium, serenely beyond the reach of exasperation, “far removed from the seats of strife,” as the early explorer and botanist William Bartram put it. All that is required of you is a willingness to trudge.

There is no point in hurrying because you are not actually going anywhere. However far or long you plod, you are always in the same place: in the woods. It’s where you were yesterday, where you will be tomorrow. The woods is one boundless singularity. Every bend in the path presents a prospect indistinguishable from every other, every glimpse into the trees the same tangled mass. For all you know, your route could describe a very large, pointless circle. In a way, it would hardly matter.

At times, you become almost certain that you slabbed this hillside three days ago, crossed this stream yesterday, clambered over this fallen tree at least twice today already. But most of the time you don’t think. No point. Instead, you exist in a kind of mobile Zen mode, your brain like a balloon tethered with string, accompanying but not actually part of the body below. Walking for hours and miles becomes as automatic, as unremarkable, as breathing. At the end of the day you don’t think, “Hey, I did sixteen miles today,” any more than you think, “Hey, I took eight-thousand breaths today.” It’s just what you do.

Bill Bryson

Tags: distance travel walking woods zentime



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Geography and mileage mean nothing. Separate is a single word that covers all distances that aren't together.

Rivera Sun

Tags: inspirational friendship love geography distance literature-quotes



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Mattia thought that he and Alice were like that, twin primes, alone and lost, close but not close enough to really touch each other.

Paolo Giordano

Tags: distance touch alone



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I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.

Hunter S. Thompson

Tags: reality distance



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Seasons of the heart. To get through what I must I'm often encased in ice and for months he chips away until he can see my face and after a while, I begin to thaw. As warmth and feeling returns, my emotions continue to build until my personality is set on fire. When he leaves, the fire dwindles until there is but a flicker. Then there is stillness and winter returns.

Donna Lynn Hope

Tags: distance fire heat cold long-distance-love long-distance-relationships



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I don't cry because we've been separated by distance, and for a matter of years. Why? Because for as long as we share the same sky and breathe the same air, we're still together.

Donna Lynn Hope

Tags: distance long-distance-love long-distance-relationships



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I know love is dark work; you have to get your hands dirty. If you hold back, nothing interesting happens. At the same time, you have to find the right distance between people. Too close, and they overwhelm you; too far and they abandon you. How to hold them in the right relation?

Hanif Kureishi

Tags: love distance intimacy hanif-kureishi



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Men dream more about coming home than about leaving.

Paulo Coelho

Tags: inspirational love melancholy journey distance longing



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If you do not have the concept of distance, you may reach an unreachable place!

Mehmet Murat ildan

Tags: distance



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I never wanted to be away from the family. Intuitively, I knew how easily distances could harden and become permanent.

Junot Díaz

Tags: family distance relationships separation



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