One travels to run away from routine, that dreadful routine that kills all imagination and all our capacity for enthusiasm.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I travel a lot; I hate having my life disrupted by routine.
We will be more successful in all our endeavors if we can let go of the habit of running all the time, and take little pauses to relax and re-center ourselves. And we'll also have a lot more joy in living.
Some of the routines come back very easily. We do it off the top of our heads.
To do anything in this world worth doing, we must not stand back shivering and thinking of the cold and danger, but jump in, and scramble through as well as we can.
There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature.
Travel is the frivolous part of serious lives, and the serious part of frivolous ones.
An involuntary return to the point of departure is, without doubt, the most disturbing of all journeys.
I certainly have routines in my day-to-day life that are important to me and still give me feelings of security and control, but the capacity to break out of them every so often as I travel has given me a second wind.
There's always somebody doing something more extreme than you are. It used to be that if you ran the marathon, that was the end of it.
Once we get into the groove, we're kind of like long-distance runners - that adrenalin kicks in for me and I just keep running - and I don't stop!