3,660 Quotes About Travel

Coming so close to death as a young child, only to resurface again into your life, imbued in me for a long time a brand of recklessness, a cavalier or even crazed attitude to risk. It could, I can see, have gone the other way, and made me into a person hindered by fear, hobbled by caution. Instead, I leapt off harbour walls. I walked alone in remote mountains. I took night trains through Europe on my own, arriving in capital cities in the middle of the night with nowhere to stay.

The sky and the earth,The night and the light,The heat and the cold,The rain and the drought;Those are my demigods.But the road,The road is my mistress.Devious and open,Harsh and nurturing,She seduces me with loveAnd dares me with deathIn equal measure.Just like any good woman.

To strengthen the connection between your conscious and subconscious, is to gain access to a map and compass, as you travel through parallel worlds.

All times are connected. Treasure each moment.

Giving up on the drive to succeed is a good part of what being an expat is all about. If you travel all the way to the Caribbean Sea, you probably have already decided to trade the dog-eat-dog competition of modern living for a hammock on the sand.

You're back where you swore yourself you wouldn't beThe familiar shackles you can't tell from your own skinYour head's under water when you learned to swimOn a road to hell, congratulations, you're free...

There’s something magic about airports it’s like standing in a room with a thousand doors.

I call it the Margarita Road. It's the course your heart sets when you want to leave the past behind and start over someplace new and warm. Usually the path heads south to blue water and white sand, with any bumps along the way smoothed over by rum and tequila. It's not for everyone. This is a highway traveled mostly by runaways and drifters. I know, becuase I'm one of them.

As I got to know my new neighbors, I found saints and sinners of every degree of good, bad, and strange. These aging adolescents thought of themselves as Peter Pan’s lost children, and the beach was their Neverland. Having run away from home, they now were refusing to grow up.