Bohemia is nothing more than the little country in which you do not live. If you try to obtain citizenship in it, at once the court and retinue pack the royal archives and treasure and move away beyond the hills.

There is no road to the land without roads.

The problem with the unknown was its lack of road signs.

She is stunned that in this town there are no sidewalks to speak of, no streetlights, no public transportation, no stores for miles at at a time.

Do not take roads traveled by the public.

Whether an independent Bohemia would be strong enough to hold her own, from a military as well as from a commercial point of view, against Teutonic domination—surrounded as she is at present entirely by German influence—I do not know.

The person attempting to travel two roads at once will get nowhere.

Who is master of Bohemia is master of Europe.

Paradise in which there is no way to leave territory — hell for a traveler.

If you walk along the main street on an August afternoon there is nothing whatsoever to do.

There's nothing in the middle of the road but a yellow stripe and dead armadillos.

No man can make a stable-yard of the King's highway.

You can't find the right roads when the streets are paved.

In the first place, you can't see anything from a car.