Big train from Memphis, now it's gone gone gone, gone gone gone. Like no one before, he let out a roar, and I just had to tag along.
Nowhere can I think so happily as in a train.
The Giraffe took the horse's head and led him along on the most level parts of the road towards the railway station, and two or three chaps went along to help get the sick man into the train.
Most men who have really lived have had, in some share, their great adventure. This railway is mine.
Anyone who has ever sat in a train as it rushes through a dark night will know that sometimes there are long minutes when the coaches slide smoothly along without so much as a shudder.
From Paris we took the Orient Express to Vienna. I must say I was terribly disappointed; nobody was murdered on the train.
My own experience with trains dates to long-ago childhood trips with my family in Mississippi to see my grandmother off at the station in Jackson, bound for Memphis.
I've seen it all through the yellow windows of the evening train.
I grew up in Gillingham in Kent, and my dad commuted to Victoria Station every day. I remember travelling in with him one day and the noise, the people, and the heat leaving me wide-eyed and grinning.
Over my desk hangs a poster from The Railway Children that my husband had framed for me. It is so lovely to see the children smiling as they run down the railway track.
The Trans-Siberian Express is like a cruise across an oceanic landscape. I've done it three times.
