Best 69 quotes in «road trip quotes» category

I have never taken a road trip. Unless you count Los Angeles to Vegas.

I love road trips. You get into this Zen rhythm; throw sense of time out the window.

I love road trips! My husband and I love that. We bought a truck with a bench seat so we could put the dog in the middle.

My road trips have been to Vegas, but you know, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

In 1903 the Wright brothers invented airplanes, because in 1902 they took a road trip across the country with their family.

My father suffered from chronic wanderlust. When I was 14, he set out on a yearlong road trip across Europe and Asia - and decided to take me along for company.

I love a good road trip. And I have been known to sing cheesy '80s songs at the top of my lungs on a windy road when no one can hear.

One road trip we were stuck on the runway for seven hours. The plane kept driving and driving until we arrived at the rink and I realized we were on a bus.

Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up.

The one thing I did know - because I've seen many, many of the road trip movies that everyone thinks about - is that death to a road trip movie happens when you spend too much time in the car.

On a two week road trip I know I can get by better with no underwear than no laptop.

We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.

Anyone can choose to have success, but only the patient ones will get rewarded by it. Be relentless in chasing your dreams.

Asking someone else to drive your sports car is like asking someone else to kiss your girlfriend.

Among all the machines, motorcar is my favorite machine.

Be a team player, not a bandwagon jumper.

45,000 sections of reinforced concrete—three tons each. Nearly 300 watchtowers. Over 250 dog runs. Twenty bunkers. Sixty five miles of anti-vehicle trenches—signal wire, barbed wire, beds of nails. Over 11,000 armed guards. A death strip of sand, well-raked to reveal footprints. 200 ordinary people shot dead following attempts to escape the communist regime. 96 miles of concrete wall. Not your typical holiday destination. JF Kennedy said the Berlin Wall was a better option than a war. In TDTL, the Anglo-German Bishop family from the pebbledashed English suburb of Oaking argue about this—among other—notions while driving to Cold War Berlin, through all the border checks, with a plan to visit both sides of it.

Building bridges is the best defence against ignorance.

But tonight, this is what I can give you. I can offer you the vault of heaven, the firmament of the stars in the sky, and me

Don't live off your past successes or failures, live for the next big pursuit.

At some point, you just gotta forgive the past, your happiness hinges on it.

Driving at night is about communicating with lights.

For the first time since I met her, I understand her need to keep her name secret and respect that. Here, someplace other than at home, we can be who we want, be with who we want, as long as it makes us happy. There’s no past today, only this moment together, right now. —HEW

Explore, Experience, Then Push Beyond.

Here we go then," Dad says. "Motoring towards our dreams, Bridge." "You shouldn't follow dreams," Grandma announces. "Why?" I ask her. "Because it's a road paved with disappointments, that's why. People should get on with what they've blinking well got at home." "You can't tell people what their dreams are meant to be." "I can. But they never listen, do they?

I am emotional about engines, if you hurt my car, you hurt my heart.

Even funnier, the guy at the front desk thinks I am either a hooker or having an affair with a married man. He was more than discrete.” “I would have guessed affair,” I joked.

I climb behind the steering wheel... I drive off immediately without once looking back; it's a long journey but it leads to freedom.

Here I was at the end of America - no more land - and now there was nowhere to go but back.

I am so obsessed with the cars that sometimes I feel like my heart is not a muscle, it's an engine.

I don't believe in luck, but rather destiny. And destiny comes when you chase opportunity, only then will you make your own path in life.

In the end, every person's life is a tough act to follow.

I know,' I said, thinking about the trip my mother had wanted me to take, and the trip we'd ended up taking, and how much better ours had been.

Integrity is something we show, not proclaim.

. . . it's part of the adventure!

I suddenly realized I was in California. Warm, palmy air - air you can kiss - and palms.

Just DO It! ... and say a little prayer.

It's bad enough I have to be trapped in a car with you children. You'll do your best not to act like children.

Love does the job. travelling too. writing does it. music. Also art, whisky, dark-coloured flowers and watching the landscape change in October. Driving on a small road somewhere in Italy with a beautiful boy and I don’t want to be anywhere else in the whole wide world than right there, with him, that very car, smiling. But I close my eyes for one second and the moment is gone. I’m back to getting high on empty roads somewhere in Sweden and I’m the loneliest girl in the whole damn world and I just want all things beautiful. I just want the music, the literature, the art and the moments of driving in a car with a beautiful boy in Italy. but here, alone, I have no cares in the world. I have no cares in the world. I just want it all to be beautiful.

Lured by smooth roads onto a new turnpike, he read with surprise the rules he was handed, don't stop, don't turn around, pay when you get there; he made his escape at the first exit he saw, for fiftyfive cents, and now he was on the old road buzzing the staid turnpike by turns over and under, teasing it crazy.

My therapist and I even have a joke about it: shit is truly fucked up when I start threatening to take a road trip.

Maybe we should live our lives in a constant state of expectation, always curious and excited about the possibilities that could unfold in front of us. Maybe it is our sense of vision that colors our reality.

She wondered what life would be like if there was always an arm around her shoulder and if there was a back that welcomed her hug all the time.

On day one of the drive, I saw my first dome sky. The world was so flat that I could see the level horizon all around me and the sky looked like a dome. Skies like that will give you perspective when nothing else will. The second day, a tumbleweed blew across the interstate. I’m in a western movie, I said to myself, laughing. I found it so much easier to laugh now that this weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Someday I want to go back to San Felipe de Jesus and find the Jesus in that place. Someday I want to trap myself in those washboard towns, Aconchi, Magdalena; I want to meet their saints someday. I would ask them if they have ever been in love. I don't mean the syrup they lay on you in the media. I mean the meat of love, the hardness of it, the ice water that wakes you up into the heat of day. The Mexico of love, with rocks, pickup trucks, fat men and sugary children. Cock-sure, moonlit tequila, sweet lime, metallic bed for secret touching. Did they ever reach that side of life? Those mealy saints with their crosses on their backs, did they have enough stomach for the midnight lunch of love?

People all around the world look different, they wear different kinds of clothes, prepare their food differently, and speak different languages, but their hearts beat for the same emotions -- this is the one and only universal human connection.

Take care of your car in the garage, and the car will take care of you on the road.

Thanks for going in with me,” I told her. “No problem, there is too much testosterone in the car without you. I’m outnumbered. Besides, coffee sounds perfect,” Nessa, said as she got in line for our drinks. -Cora and Nessa at Starbucks

The freedom of the open road is seductive, serendipitous and absolutely liberating.

...that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was—I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the dividing line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that’s why it happened right there and then, that strange red afternoon.