Travelogue Quotes

Quotes tagged as "travelogue" (showing 1-15 of 15)
Roman Payne
“A person does not grow from the ground like a vine or a tree, one is not part of a plot of land. Mankind has legs so it can wander.”
Roman Payne, The Wanderess

Sanhita Baruah
“I, sometimes, fear that probably I'll just keep changing cities, and may be someday I'll also travel the world, but never find another soul who thinks exactly the way I do.”
Sanhita Baruah

Ilya Ilf
“Clearly it's not all that pacific on the Pacific Ocean”
Ilya Ilf

Ilya Ilf
“This (San Francisco) is the most beautiful city in America, Probably because it looks nothing like America”
Ilya Ilf

Sofia Samatar
“As I was a stranger in Olondria, I knew nothing of the splendour of its coasts, nor of Bain, the Harbour City, whose lights and colours spill into the ocean like a cataract of roses. I did not know the vastness of the spice markets of Bain, where the merchants are delirious with scents, I had never seen the morning mists adrift above the surface of the green Illoun, of which the poets sing; I had never seen a woman with gems in her hair, nor observed the copper glinting of the domes, nor stood upon the melancholy beaches of the south while the wind brought in the sadness from the sea. Deep within the Fayaleith, the Country of the Wines, the clarity of light can stop the heart: it is the light the local people call 'the breath of angels'...”
Sofia Samatar, A Stranger in Olondria

Sanhita Baruah
“Rule #1 of Traveling-
Don't even think of answering questions that contain the word "plan"?”
Sanhita Baruah

Ilya Ilf
“A Spaniard and a Pole worked in the barbershop where we got our hair cut. An Italian shined our shoes. A Croat washed our car. This was America.”
Ilya Ilf

Michael Filimowicz
“What happens when I click this-- will Facebook know about it?”
Michael Filimowicz, Tatvan, a short story collection

Camilo José Cela
“At about eight-thirty or nine the friends make a halt, already in sight of Moranchel. Moranchel is on the left of the Cifuentes road, at some two hundred paces from the highway. It is a gloomy, dark town that seems to have no business being surrounded by green fields. The old man sits down in the ditch and the traveler lies on his back and looks up at some little clouds, graceful as doves, which are floating in the sky. A stork flies past, not very high, with a snake in its beak. Some partridge fly up from a bed of thyme. An adolescent goatherd and a member of his flock are sinning one of the oldest of sins in the shade of a hawthorn tree blooming with tiny sweet-smelling flowers, white as orange blossoms. ― Camilo José Cela, Journey to the Alcarria: Travels Through the Spanish Countryside”
Camilo José Cela, Journey to the Alcarria: Travels through the Spanish Countryside

Camilo José Cela
“Perhaps there is to be found in Pastrana the key to something which happens in Spain more frequently than is necessary. Past splendor overwhelms and in the end exhausts the people's will; and without force of will, as can be seen in so many cases, by being exclusively occupied with the contemplation of the glories of the past, they leave current problems unsolved. When the belly is empty and the mind filled with golden memories, the golden memories continually retreat and at last, though no one goes so far as to admit it, there is even doubt whether they ever existed and there is nothing left of them but a benevolent and useless cultural residue.”
Camilo José Cela

Paul Theroux
“...it was just a version of Rimbaud in Harar: the exile, a selfish beast with modest fantasies of power, secretly enjoying a life of beer drinking and scribbling and occasional mythomania in a nice climate where there were no interruptions, such as unwelcome letters or faxes or cell phones. It was an eccentric ideal, life lived off the map.¨”
Paul Theroux, Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town

Camilo José Cela
“Inwardly - nobody knows why - the passengers on one train always envy slightly the passengers on another train; it is something that's true but a little difficult to explain. Maybe it's because, even though they don't realize it very clearly, a third-class passenger would always be glad to change places with another, even if the other were third-class too. ― Camilo José Cela, Journey to the Alcarria: Travels Through the Spanish Countryside”
Camilo José Cela, Journey to the Alcarria: Travels through the Spanish Countryside

Jennifer S. Alderson
“The ride back to Kathmandu was comfortable and relaxing. There were more overturned trucks (the gas-powered ones seem to tip the most often, I’m surprised there weren’t more explosions), goats being herded across the highway by ancient women, children playing games in traffic, private cars and buses alike pulling over in the most inconvenient places for a picnic or public bath, and best of all the suicidal overtaking maneuvers (or what we would call ‘passing’) by our bus and others while going downhill at incredible speeds or around hairpin turns uphill with absolutely no power left to actually get around the other vehicle.”
Jennifer S. Alderson, Notes of a Naive Traveler: Nepal and Thailand

Jennifer S. Alderson
“I ended up in the back seat of a chicken truck’s cab heading through beautiful scenery and disastrous roads to my hotel. About an hour later, we stopped to sell a few hundred of the chickens to a butcher shop.”
Jennifer S. Alderson, Notes of a Naive Traveler: Nepal and Thailand

Lucy Knisley
“All our ancestors were murdered, murderers, complicit to murder, or combating murder.”
Lucy Knisley, An Age of License: A Travelogue