Traveling is like flirting with life. It's like saying, 'I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.
Let your memory be your travel bag.
Don't let your luggage define your travels, each life unravels differently.
Memories are who we are. In the end, that's all the luggage you take with you. Love and Memories are what last.
I love flying. I've been to almost as many places as my luggage.
Lost luggage is just an opportunity to start afresh.
Running through airports with pounds of luggage - that's a good workout.
When it comes to luggage, I am an underpacker.
I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.
To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.
If anybody here has trouble with the concept of design humility, reflect on this: It took us 5,000 years to put wheels on our luggage.
I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.
I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.
The scientific theory I like best is that the rings of Saturn are composed entirely of lost airline luggage.
Never have anyone else carry your luggage. Pack only what you need.
Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Watch your step.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
So let's not pretend that travel is always fun. We don't spend 10 hours lost in the Louvre because we like it, and the view from the top of Machu Picchu probably doesn't make up for the hassle of lost luggage. (More often than not, I need a holiday after my holiday.) We travel because we need to, because distance and difference are the secret tonic of creativity. When we get home, home is still the same. But something in our mind has been changed, and that changes everything.
Orville Wright said to his brother, "Wilbur, you were only in the air for 12 seconds. How could my luggage be in Cleveland?"
I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
The federal government said today they've begun training sessions for airport security workers to provide what they call more customer satisfaction to the travels, they want to make it easier for us. They're instructing security guards to glance at your luggage tags so that they can call you by your first name. Isn't that creepy? The guy touching your wife, calling her by her first name.
If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay home.
I want to travel on a train that smells like snowflakes. I want to sip in cafes that smell like comets. Under the pressure of my step, I want the streets to emit the precise odor of a diamond necklace. I want the newspapers I read to smell like the violins left in pawnshops by weeping hobos on Christmas Eve. I want to carry luggage that reeks of the neurons in Einstein's brain. I want a city's gases to smell like the golden belly hairs of the gods. And when I gaze at a televised picture of the moon, I want to detect, from a distance of 239,000 miles, the aroma of fresh mozzarella.
Although he travels all day, the sage never loses sight of his luggage carts.
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