She fell to the ground clutching the compass that her father had given her. She promised himbon his deathbbed that she would use it to find the crystal skull.
When I feel lost, I look to my compass. They’re designed to give you a sense of direction. Unfortunately, mine feels as though it is always cracked, giving me this false sense of hope as it leads me to my inevitable demise. I’m following a lie.
a compass should always be old and worn and slightly wrong
in a wooden box kept in corduroy pockets
with a dusty smell of matches and the necessary presence of its owner who can discern and interpret its eccentricities
a compass should be a thing that doesn’t work for anyone but you
Compass means direction. It doesn’t sound like direction, it’s quite an ugly word. cum-pass. Sounds like something a brass instrument might sound like. It doesn’t sound like it looks either. People in America seem to have an internal compass, they’re always saying ‘head east’ or ‘head west’ instead of left or right which confuses me.
The swiftly shaping sands of the Terulian mountain dunes move in one direction every 20 seconds. They change so tirelessly that one can only hope to sleep eternally if caught within them.
cuvîntul compass îmi apare în minte drept compasul cu care desenăm cercuri şi arcuri, dar de fapt se traduce busolă. am avut o busolă jucărie cînd eram mic şi credeam că este un ceas.
Traveling with it would be easy if you know how to use. It will give you directions in where ever you want to go, it might in the east, west, north or south. It was used to navigate around the world.
compass, to show the way. lead me please,. lead me
north or south, east or west. with youe mighty needle, please lead my way.
let me drift away.. to where.. to nowhere…
I think about being guided. But who can? Who can guide? Yourself?
Everybody is taking you with them in deeper oceans, in stratosphere, in the darkest place and the lightest spot, everybody shows you the dimensions of being.
Being guided.
By you.
It pointed north, though his heart told him what he really wanted, he was leaving behind. He wanted to move towards the mountains, away from her and her smile. Away from her smell and her essence. Away from everything that wanted him to become a better man.
He saw the compass once again, to check and kept moving on.
finding my way, which way to turn. climbing mountains and see for miles around where are those places where could i go if i keep walking i’ll be somewhere new will i be new?
It was about time to get a compass. His internal one was malfunctioning badly, or else it just wasn’t there. About time. He felt directionless. And then of course there were those people who told him he didn’t NEED a compass, there wasn’t any such thing – north, south, west, east – those were all things made up a long time ago when people needed comfort
“There is no way that we’re crossing that lake!” Sherlock protested.
“Well, there’s no way around it and Price is getting pretty far at this pace,” John said, looking around.
“Maybe we can find some sort of shortcut…” Sherlock muttered.
“For God’s sake, just get in the bloody lake!” John said as he shoved Sherlock forwards. he fell face first into the icy cold water, coat and all.
Sherlock’s teeth were chattering when he was able to surface. “What was that for?!” he yelled at John.
John was deliberately ignoring Sherlock as he looked at his compass. “Well, he left a note that said go north and… oh,” he looked behind his shoulder.
Sherlock got out of the water and was soaking wet. He’s going to need a hot shower after this. “What? Did we take a wrong turn?” he asked.
“Yeah, seems like it. North was actually that way,” John said, pointing in the direction they came from.
Oh, bloody hell, Sherlock thought. What a way to get yourself wet and waste time.
Can a compass lead you to your Wonderland? Cause that’s where my heart desires to rest. But I’m lost. Stuck in the jungles of hate. Stuck in the sea of deception. Stuck in the valley of sorrow. Stuck in the deserts of death. Stuck in the mountain sides of depression. And the compass I use is pointing me into disaster. It’s lying to me. When it says.go North I’m doing south. And the farther I go, the farther my Wonderland is behind.
Maybe my compass is making me go the difficult way. Maybe it’s teaching me that to get to the treasure you must endure the worse.
But it feels like I’m going in circles. I’v suffered these landmarks. And yet no Wonderland.
I’m starting to enter the city of Lost Hope.
We were lost and there were no one in our group with a compass that could show us our direction. it was only after the hotel manager got worried that we did not return on time, that a search party was send out to rescue us.
My cousin’s last name is Campassi, but you pronounce it like “compassi”, not “camp-ass-ie”. It’s must be pretty sweet to have a swear word in your last name, huh?
I have a compass. It is very handy. I use it when I need to be directed somewhere. A compass is very simple. It uses magnetic stuff to find out where north, east, south, and west are. There’s handheld compasses, and apps for a compass. they are very helpful. Especially when you are lost in places like a forest. Without compasses, people wouldn’t have a clue how to tell direction. So yeah, I should probably buy one.
There are times when I really don’t know what’s right or wrong. You’d think there would be some way to break that down to its basic form and work it out but really, sometimes you just can’t. Too many variables and too many consequences. That’s why you need to have your own compass to make your way through the murk.
A journey would encompass
All that should come to pass
But the trouble is, there’s never just a single path
So follow the needle or the moon and stars
Or maps and charts
Perhaps your heart
Or the sun, which maybe you’ve been chasing from the start
Till your end of days begin to lap at you like waves and waves
And you depart, or perhaps arrive at your final destination
A compass to your fate. A guide, something everyone wants and desires. No one really gets it, because no one gets it easy. Everyone has to work for the path they’re meant for. Everyone needs to prove himself.
Knowing where they want to go isn’t a problem for me. I’ve always known where I want to be. Picture a clean, brightly coloured apartment in New York City. That’s where I want to be: home.
And that’s where compasses take you, isn’t it? Home? That certainly happened in Pocahontas. The compass led her truthfully every time.
For me, it’s a bit different. I don’t have a compass to lead me home.
telling you where to go. usually points north but it some movies aka pirates it points to what your heart desires. the compass from pocahontas works with her heart. god is the ultimate compass. i should probably teach my kinder kids the directions on a compass.
The map was frozen in my hands. How ever would I find my way back? I would be lost in the woods, trapped here until I perished. I take a step forward, and feel a weigh shift in my pocket. The object that would save my life. The compass.
I was searching for a way out of the woods when suddenly a strange sound came from behind me, I froze. I knew what it was but I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. They couldn’t be back, they just couldn’t.
A compass is something that gives you direction when you don’t know where you are or where to go. There are two specific kinds of compasses I think of. The first is the physical kind you use on a hike. The second is the morally guiding one that helps you make decisions in life.
I used to write brilliantly. I’ve stared at this word, “compass,” and can’t think of anything.
What’s with compasses, anyways? I know they’re useful in navigation, obviously, but what does North, South, East and West really matter? Look at the world from a different perspective and the rules change. I feel that way with time, too. Just a tool for civilization to use to make things easier. Time has no meaning. I’m sure that applies to life in some kind of deep, metaphorical way.
It’d be nice to not have to worry about time. Or days. Let’s just get rid of the whole calendar. Life would sure seem longer that way. Simpler, too.
His compass was broken, bashed against the rocky bottom of his brain in a struggle to find a reason for being, the romantically French concept that constituted a purpose. Where was he going, and more to the point, why?
I’ve gotten compass twice in a row now. I wonder if the events on this site are scripted. Funnily enough, my life is pretty scripted. Which is really odd considering my “freedom of speech.” Compasses don’t lead you anywhere if you don’t have a map, or any knowledge of compasses or maps. Ah well. Far better to be lost!
She fell to the ground clutching the compass that her father had given her. She promised himbon his deathbbed that she would use it to find the crystal skull.
When I feel lost, I look to my compass. They’re designed to give you a sense of direction. Unfortunately, mine feels as though it is always cracked, giving me this false sense of hope as it leads me to my inevitable demise. I’m following a lie.
a compass should always be old and worn and slightly wrong
in a wooden box kept in corduroy pockets
with a dusty smell of matches and the necessary presence of its owner who can discern and interpret its eccentricities
a compass should be a thing that doesn’t work for anyone but you
Compass means direction. It doesn’t sound like direction, it’s quite an ugly word. cum-pass. Sounds like something a brass instrument might sound like. It doesn’t sound like it looks either. People in America seem to have an internal compass, they’re always saying ‘head east’ or ‘head west’ instead of left or right which confuses me.
The swiftly shaping sands of the Terulian mountain dunes move in one direction every 20 seconds. They change so tirelessly that one can only hope to sleep eternally if caught within them.
cuvîntul compass îmi apare în minte drept compasul cu care desenăm cercuri şi arcuri, dar de fapt se traduce busolă. am avut o busolă jucărie cînd eram mic şi credeam că este un ceas.
Traveling with it would be easy if you know how to use. It will give you directions in where ever you want to go, it might in the east, west, north or south. It was used to navigate around the world.
direction. small word but heavily loaded with meaning. take your life impart wisdom and direction to others.
my north star, my compass, my greatest love
compass, to show the way. lead me please,. lead me
north or south, east or west. with youe mighty needle, please lead my way.
let me drift away.. to where.. to nowhere…
oh show me new places.
I think about being guided. But who can? Who can guide? Yourself?
Everybody is taking you with them in deeper oceans, in stratosphere, in the darkest place and the lightest spot, everybody shows you the dimensions of being.
Being guided.
By you.
It pointed north, though his heart told him what he really wanted, he was leaving behind. He wanted to move towards the mountains, away from her and her smile. Away from her smell and her essence. Away from everything that wanted him to become a better man.
He saw the compass once again, to check and kept moving on.
The golden compass is your faith in Jesus.
finding my way, which way to turn. climbing mountains and see for miles around where are those places where could i go if i keep walking i’ll be somewhere new will i be new?
the direction is either lost or found. but no, it’s just empty and the compass is fighting towards it all. mess. mess.
It was about time to get a compass. His internal one was malfunctioning badly, or else it just wasn’t there. About time. He felt directionless. And then of course there were those people who told him he didn’t NEED a compass, there wasn’t any such thing – north, south, west, east – those were all things made up a long time ago when people needed comfort
“There is no way that we’re crossing that lake!” Sherlock protested.
“Well, there’s no way around it and Price is getting pretty far at this pace,” John said, looking around.
“Maybe we can find some sort of shortcut…” Sherlock muttered.
“For God’s sake, just get in the bloody lake!” John said as he shoved Sherlock forwards. he fell face first into the icy cold water, coat and all.
Sherlock’s teeth were chattering when he was able to surface. “What was that for?!” he yelled at John.
John was deliberately ignoring Sherlock as he looked at his compass. “Well, he left a note that said go north and… oh,” he looked behind his shoulder.
Sherlock got out of the water and was soaking wet. He’s going to need a hot shower after this. “What? Did we take a wrong turn?” he asked.
“Yeah, seems like it. North was actually that way,” John said, pointing in the direction they came from.
Oh, bloody hell, Sherlock thought. What a way to get yourself wet and waste time.
compass! I need some directions!
Can a compass lead you to your Wonderland? Cause that’s where my heart desires to rest. But I’m lost. Stuck in the jungles of hate. Stuck in the sea of deception. Stuck in the valley of sorrow. Stuck in the deserts of death. Stuck in the mountain sides of depression. And the compass I use is pointing me into disaster. It’s lying to me. When it says.go North I’m doing south. And the farther I go, the farther my Wonderland is behind.
Maybe my compass is making me go the difficult way. Maybe it’s teaching me that to get to the treasure you must endure the worse.
But it feels like I’m going in circles. I’v suffered these landmarks. And yet no Wonderland.
I’m starting to enter the city of Lost Hope.
We were lost and there were no one in our group with a compass that could show us our direction. it was only after the hotel manager got worried that we did not return on time, that a search party was send out to rescue us.
My cousin’s last name is Campassi, but you pronounce it like “compassi”, not “camp-ass-ie”. It’s must be pretty sweet to have a swear word in your last name, huh?
I have a compass. It is very handy. I use it when I need to be directed somewhere. A compass is very simple. It uses magnetic stuff to find out where north, east, south, and west are. There’s handheld compasses, and apps for a compass. they are very helpful. Especially when you are lost in places like a forest. Without compasses, people wouldn’t have a clue how to tell direction. So yeah, I should probably buy one.
It wil guide you. Wherever you are, you just have to look at it and you’ll be able to find your way back home to me. I love you. Don’t forget me.
There are times when I really don’t know what’s right or wrong. You’d think there would be some way to break that down to its basic form and work it out but really, sometimes you just can’t. Too many variables and too many consequences. That’s why you need to have your own compass to make your way through the murk.
A journey would encompass
All that should come to pass
But the trouble is, there’s never just a single path
So follow the needle or the moon and stars
Or maps and charts
Perhaps your heart
Or the sun, which maybe you’ve been chasing from the start
Till your end of days begin to lap at you like waves and waves
And you depart, or perhaps arrive at your final destination
A compass to your fate. A guide, something everyone wants and desires. No one really gets it, because no one gets it easy. Everyone has to work for the path they’re meant for. Everyone needs to prove himself.
I drew you a compass
from my hear to yours
it wasn’t a good charm
and you left me in short
Knowing where they want to go isn’t a problem for me. I’ve always known where I want to be. Picture a clean, brightly coloured apartment in New York City. That’s where I want to be: home.
And that’s where compasses take you, isn’t it? Home? That certainly happened in Pocahontas. The compass led her truthfully every time.
For me, it’s a bit different. I don’t have a compass to lead me home.
At least, not yet.
telling you where to go. usually points north but it some movies aka pirates it points to what your heart desires. the compass from pocahontas works with her heart. god is the ultimate compass. i should probably teach my kinder kids the directions on a compass.
The map was frozen in my hands. How ever would I find my way back? I would be lost in the woods, trapped here until I perished. I take a step forward, and feel a weigh shift in my pocket. The object that would save my life. The compass.
I had a compass my grandpa once gave me. It was small and old. I always wonder why did he gave me but sadly he was gone before I could ask.
I was searching for a way out of the woods when suddenly a strange sound came from behind me, I froze. I knew what it was but I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. They couldn’t be back, they just couldn’t.
“What to do?”
I ask myself.
It’s the same as looking for directions.
“What to do?”
Is there such thing as a to-do-list compass?
Caroline, sweet caroline
where do you point me with this
compass of mine?
Eyes born for seeing
a head as sharp as vine
fill me with sweet nothings
and my ears with your wine
A compass is something that gives you direction when you don’t know where you are or where to go. There are two specific kinds of compasses I think of. The first is the physical kind you use on a hike. The second is the morally guiding one that helps you make decisions in life.
they smashed their compass against the rocks, they didn’t need it anymore..
I used to write brilliantly. I’ve stared at this word, “compass,” and can’t think of anything.
What’s with compasses, anyways? I know they’re useful in navigation, obviously, but what does North, South, East and West really matter? Look at the world from a different perspective and the rules change. I feel that way with time, too. Just a tool for civilization to use to make things easier. Time has no meaning. I’m sure that applies to life in some kind of deep, metaphorical way.
It’d be nice to not have to worry about time. Or days. Let’s just get rid of the whole calendar. Life would sure seem longer that way. Simpler, too.
His compass was broken, bashed against the rocky bottom of his brain in a struggle to find a reason for being, the romantically French concept that constituted a purpose. Where was he going, and more to the point, why?
A gold-rimmed dusty compass
I’ve gotten compass twice in a row now. I wonder if the events on this site are scripted. Funnily enough, my life is pretty scripted. Which is really odd considering my “freedom of speech.” Compasses don’t lead you anywhere if you don’t have a map, or any knowledge of compasses or maps. Ah well. Far better to be lost!