When you’re on the road and moving city to city, when someone isn’t there at the end of the night, you feel empty.

The Indians on board said that thence to Cuba was a voyage in their canoes of a day and a half; these being small dug-outs without a sail. Such are their canoes. I departed thence for Cuba, for by the signs the Indians made of its greatness, and of its gold and pearls, I thought that it must be Cipango.

The traveller has reached the end of the journey!

Back in Oakland, we have a lot of food in the locker room, but on the road, it’s mostly just fruit. So we have to prepare differently. But really, once you get to the gym, everything on the road is pretty much the same.

Where ever I am I always find myself looking out the window wishing I was somewhere else.

I like being comfortable at airports, in flip-flops with no jewelry on.

Alas, I am a woman friendless, hopeless!

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.

The gift of loneliness is sometimes a radical vision of society or one’s people that has not previously been taken into account.

Let me recommend the best medicine in the world: a long journey, at a mild season, through a pleasant country, in easy stages.

There are a lot of good women in New York.

Not all those who wander are lost.

We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness.

At school I pretended I had a normal life, but I felt lonely all the time and different from everyone else. I never felt like I fit in, and I wasn’t allowed to participate in after-school activities, go to sports events or parties or date boys. Many times I had to make up stories about why I couldn’t do anything with my classmates.

Sitting on a bedroom floor crying is something that makes you feel really alone. If someone’s singing about that feeling, you feel bonded to that person.

I am confident I will set foot again in Tibet in my lifetime.

Acting helped me as I was growing up. It helped me learn about myself, helped me travel, helped me understand life, express myself, all those wonderful things. So I’m very, very grateful; it’s a fun job. It’s a luxury.

It’s not the destination that matters. It’s the change of scene.

The concept of loneliness and exile and self-sufficiency continually bucks me up.

Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen.

I had rather have a fool to make me merry than experience to make me sad and to travel for it too!

I’ve grown accustomed to hotels and drastic climate change.

If you’re embarking around the world in a hot-air balloon, don’t forget the toilet paper.

I was in Europe and it was at this stage that I fell in love with Americans in uniform. And I continue to have that love affair.

Blood alone moves the wheels of history.

Places I’ve lived since then had to have some kind of uniqueness and character about them. And logically Key West, and then Down Island. So, all of that stuff sort of had it’s roots in New Orleans and went crazy.

A lot of people can’t stand touring but to me it’s like breathing. I do it because I’m driven to do it.

I’m a Bangalore boy.

I used to go away for weeks in a state of confusion.

In America, there might be better gastronomic destinations than New Orleans, but there is no place more uniquely wonderful.

I always seem to get inspiration and renewed vitality by contact with this great novel land of yours which sticks up out of the Atlantic.

An architect should live as little in cities as a painter. Send him to our hills, and let him study there what nature understands by a buttress, and what by a dome.

Wherever you go, go with all your heart.

I doubt anyone else would have travelled as extensively as I have to meet the citizens of the country.

Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.

Too much self-centered attitude, you see, brings, you see, isolation. Result: loneliness, fear, anger. The extreme self-centered attitude is the source of suffering.

Isolation is the sum total of wretchedness to a man.

I would drive to gigs in my tiny little Fiat. I would shoot up and down the M1 to play at various places.

You learn a lot from traveling around.

I’m not afraid to look like a big, hairy, smelly, foreign devil in Tokyo, though I do my best not to, I really do.

I am not solicitous to examine particularly everything here, which indeed could not be done in fifty years, because my desire is to make all possible discoveries, and return to your Highnesses, if it please our Lord, in April.

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.

If you don’t trust the pilot, don’t go.

I like the city. I like the concrete. I like big business. I like being a CEO of my own company and having a lot of responsibilities. At the same time, when I can go off with a backpack or off on a surfboard or even off on a run somewhere in the woods – that’s where I’m really happy.

Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.

I am alone; I am always alone no matter what.

When all the routines and details and the human bores get on our nerves, we just yearn to go away from here to somewhere else. To go fishing is a sound, a valid, and an accepted reason for an escape. It requires no explanation.

I’ve been waiting over 40 years to come to Cyprus, and it has not disappointed – the birthplace of Aphrodite, the Crossroads of Civilization, and, I might add, a genuine strategic partner to the United States of America.

It is better to be alone than in bad company.

Following the light of the sun, we left the Old World.

Until 1914 I loved to travel; I often went to Italy and once spent a few months in India. Since then I have almost entirely abandoned travelling, and I have not been outside of Switzerland for over ten years.

I come from Detroit where it’s rough and I’m not a smooth talker.

I’ve been everywhere in the world, seen everything, had everything a man can have.

I guess I wanted to leave America for awhile. It wasn’t that I wanted to become an expatriate, or just never come back, I needed some breathing room. I’d already been translating French poetry, I’d been to Paris once before and liked it very much, and so I just went.

Sometimes, I feel like one who is on the sidelines, who has missed life itself.

It was wonderful to find America, but it would have been more wonderful to miss it.

I’m never in the same place for more than, like, three days at a time. Things can change from one minute to the next.

Obviously, because of my disability, I need assistance. But I have always tried to overcome the limitations of my condition and lead as full a life as possible. I have traveled the world, from the Antarctic to zero gravity.

I’ve never thought about songwriting as a weapon. I’ve only thought about it as a way to help me get through love and loss and sadness and loneliness and growing up.

All I really had was a suitcase and my drums. So I took them up to Seattle and hoped it would work.

Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?