Quotes About Travel

each and all of our lives are put at increasing risk daily when we fly and for one reason only. The aggressive pursuit of profit—and the erosion of safety standards caused by that same relentless pursuit.

The hardest part is to travel, and to be away from your family.

Long before all these divisions were opened between home and the road, betweens a woman's place and a man's world, humans followed the crops, the seasons, traveling with their families, our companions, animals, our tents. We built campfires and moved from place to place. This way of traveling is still in our cellular memory. Living things have evolved as travelers, Even migrating birds know that nature doesn't demand a choice between nesting and flight.

I can go on the road - because I can come home. I come home - because I'm free to leave. Each way of being is more valued in the presence of the other.

I'm also now immune to politicians who say, "I've traveled the length and breadth of this great land, and I know..." I've traveled more than any of them, and I don't know.

Because adventure starts the moment I leave my door.

Altogether, if I had to pick one place to hang out anywhere, from New York to Cape Town and Australia to Hong Kong, a bookstore would be it.

When people ask me why I still have hope and energy after all these years, I always say: Because I travel.

More reliably than anything else on earth, the road will force you to live in the present.

I can go on the road - because I can come home. I come home - because I'm free to leave. Each way of being is more valued in the presence of the other. This balance between making camp and following the seasons is both very ancient and very new. We all need both.

The irony here is that thanks to molecular archaeology—which includes the study of ancient DNA to trace human movement over time—we now know that men have been the stay-at-homes, and women have been the travelers. The rate of intercontinental migration for women is about eight times that for men.

It's time to leave. There is so much out there to do and say and listen to. I can go on the road, because I can come home. I come home, because I am free to leave.

Altogether, I can't imagine technology replacing bookstores completely, any more than movies about a country replace going there.

I'm also now immune to politicians who say, "I've traveled the length and breadth of this great land, and I know…" I've traveled more than any of them, and I don't know.

I can go on the road - and I can come home. I come home - because I'm free to leave. Each way of being is more valued int he presence of the other. This balance between making camp and following the seasons is both very ancient and very new. We all need both.

Altogether, I can't imagine technology replacing bookstores completely, any more than movies about a country replace going there. Wherever

A journey - whether it's to the corner grocery or through life - is supposed to have a beginning, middle, and end, right? Well, the road is not like that at all. It's the very illogic and the juxtaposed differences of the road - combined with our search for meaning - that make travel so addictive.

I sometimes wonder if I am crisscrossing my father's ghostly paths and we are entering same towns or roadside diners or the black ribbons of highways that gleam in the night rain. As if we were images in a time-lapse photograph.

So I sat down and began to make notes about many trips, past and present, that left me amazed by what is, angered by what isn't, and hooked on what could be.

I always thought of my road life as temporary, assuming that one day I would grow up and settle down. Now I realized that for me, the road was permanent, and settling down was temporary. Traveling had created my nonroad life, not the other way around.

When people ask me why I still have hope and energy after all these years, I always say: Because I travel... Taking to the road — by which I mean letting the road take you — changed who I thought I was. The road is messy in the way that real life is messy. It leads us out of denial and into reality, out of theory and into practice, out of caution and into action, out of statistics and into stories —in short, out of our heads and into our hearts.

I became a person whose friends and hopes were as spread out as my life. It just felt natural that the one common element in that life was the road.

I can go on the road—because I can come home. I come home—because I'm free to leave. Each way of being is more valued in the presence of the other.

laughter is a mark of wanderers