We were just looking at maps...

A compass calibrated by my greed is a rather shrewd way to legitimize my agenda. However, true north on a compass such as this is a straight line to the edge of a really big cliff.

If I simply look at the map that I’ve so tediously created, it will explain why I’m laying at the bottom of this cliff looking up.

The best parts of life are the things we can't plan. And it's a lot harder to find happiness if you're only searching in one place. Sometimes, you just have to throw away the map. Admit that you don't know where you're going and stop pressuring yourself to figure it out. Besides...a map is a life someone else already lived. It's more fun to make your own.

The line that we chart into our future is often more a circle that brings us back to our past. And it might be that there is some hidden intent in charting circles in that we can feel like we’re moving when we actually have no intent of doing so.

Ô, the wine of a womanfrom heaven is sent, more perfect than allthat a man can invent.When she came to my bed and begged me with sighsnot to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise, I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes, then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise.While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fineI devoured her mouth, tender lips divine;and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine.Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

The heart is a wanderer, the mind is its map; love is its destination.

I want to learn how to speak to anyone at any time and make us both feel a little bit better, lighter, richer, with no commitments of ever meeting again. I want to learn how to stand wherever with whoever and still feel stable. I want to learn how to unlock the locks to our minds, my mind, so that when I hear opinions or views that don’t match up with mine, I can still listen and understand. I want to burn up lifeless habits of following maps and to-do lists, concentrated liquids to burn my mind and throatand I want to go back to the way nature shaped me. I want to learn to go on well with whatever I have in my hands at the momentin a natural state of mind,certain like the sea.I will find comfort in the rhythm of the sea.

The natural world is built upon common motifs and patterns. Recognizing patterns in nature creates a map for locating yourself in change, and anticipation what is yet to come.

My heart says, ‘This way.’ The world says, ‘That way.’ God says, ‘I am the Way.’ And if perchance I choose to listen to the first two, I’m going to find myself so far off the ‘way’ that being lost becomes the ‘way’.

Leadership is about taking steps while management is about drawing the map on the steps to take. Managers simply plan, leaders simply execute!

You are my other self

We only pass this way once..unless our significant other is reading the map..

How can you follow your heart, unless you know why you have allowed it to be empty for so long and didn't have the courage to fix it?

What is a fantasy map but a space beyond which There Be Dragons?

Under her thick pancake makeup, her sin had been pockmarked, but he would stare at her adoringly from his cot at night and imagine her scars were constellations, a secret map to a far-off, happy place.

I’d won the worldbut like aforsaken explorer,I’d lostmy map.

I’ve always marveled that geese can feel a call stirring, rise on hardy wings to engage it, and without contemplation, compass or map complete the feat. And could it be that they achieve this astounding accomplishment because far too often contemplation, compass or map rob the call by sterile analysis when we should liberate the call through expectant obedience.

Today abstraction is no longer that of the map, the double, the mirror, or the concept. Simulation is no longer that of a territory, a referential being, or a substance. It is the generation by models of a real without origin or reality: a hyperreal.

You don't throw a compass overboard because the ocean is calm.

Could it be that we lost something because had we not lost it, we would have lost ourselves?

The road from ‘here’ to ‘there’ is a map yet to be written with the pen I hold in my hand.

Life has no map; it's made of random events, always caused by something beyond your control.

The past informs the present. Memory makes the map we carry, no matter how hard we try to erase it.

Due north’ on my compass is largely ‘due’ to the fact that in ‘due’ time I have been ‘unduly’ lax in recalibrating my compass. And I’m apparently ignorant enough to wonder why I’m lost.

The journey of success requires a map for effective navigation. Establish a destination by defining what you want. Once you have a destination, take physical action by making choices that move you towards that destination.

...there is no map of the soul because we make it up as we go...

Here. There. Everywhere. Somewhere. Home.

We can only get to God through God. Every other possible avenue is a dead-end before it even starts.

We got where we are because our choices mapped the route and paved the road.

To put a city in a book, to put the world on one sheet of paper -- maps are the most condensed humanized spaces of all...They make the landscape fit indoors, make us masters of sights we can't see and spaces we can't cover.

Each day hands me a clean sheet of paper upon which to write. Therefore, I would be wise to write without ever having the need to erase.

Arrogance is a map of a road that leads to bridges that are out.

Intuitions are like migratory birds, they come without a map without a reason.

The hardest part of being a Canadian kid is having to color in Nunavut with a crayon in school, hell on earth.

Maps codify the miracle of existence.

There isn’t a parallel of latitude but thinks it would have been the equator if it had had its rights.

...I'm a modern mountebank - I believe in Physiognomy - after all, we are in control of our face - it's the map of where we've been...

A novel is a tricky thing to map.

But what is your life? Can you see it? It vanishes at its own appearance. Moment by moment. Until it vanishes to appear no more. When you look at the world is there a point in time when the seen becomes the remembered? How are they separate? It is that which we have no way o show. It is that which is missing from our map and from the picture that it makes. And yet is all we have.

I have a map of the United States... Actual size. It says, 'Scale: 1 mile = 1 mile.' I spent last summer folding it. I hardly ever unroll it. People ask me where I live, and I say, 'E6.