Street Navigation Quotes

I love walking everywhere I go and following City Mapper.

I'll find places to grab as I walk and talk, sometimes even walking backwards because I have more control that way. People have no idea that I'm doing this.

I think driving in New York is a great experience. A lot more racing techniques go into it than anyplace else I've ever driven. There basically are no lanes.

As a kid I could be in New Lodge in a minute. I'd go down our street, turn right and I was there.

I am for an art that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a street is. I am for an art that helps old ladies across the street.

I wanted to get from 4th street to 8th... Then I remembered Einstein postulating that parallel lines eventually meet. They're dredging my car from Lake Michigan as we speak.

You'd never think of taking a cab if you had to walk a mile down Chicago's Michigan Avenue. But in a bad city you take a cab just to go around the corner.

I am that weirdo that chooses the difficult route down the side of the street.

I like to see cats in movement. A galloping cat is a fine sight. See it cross the road in a streak, cursed by the drivers of motor cars and buses, dodging the butcher's bicycle, coming safe to the kerb and bellying under its home gate.

Not to find one's way around a city does not mean much. But to lose one's way in a city, as one loses one's way in a forest, requires some schooling. Street names must speak to the urban wanderer like the snapping of dry twigs, and little streets in the heart of the city must reflect the times of day, for him, as clearly as a mountain valley. This art I acquired rather late in life; it fulfilled a dream, of which the first traces were labyrinths on the blotting papers in my school notebooks.

I walk to Oxford Street and climb on the number 8. It's freezing and it starts to rain and it's the ugliest bus I've ever seen, rattling down the ugliest streets, in the ugliest city, in the ugliest country, in the ugliest of all possible worlds.

There's a smartphone gait: the slow sidewalk weave that comes from being lost in conversation rather than looking where you're going.