Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Traffic. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Traffic Quotes And Sayings by 97 Authors including Robert Ferrigno,Jerry Pinto,Kris Kidd,Gudjon Bergmann,Rohinton Mistry for you to enjoy and share.
People in a hurry get noticed.
In this city, every deserted street corner conceals a crowd. It appears in a minute when something disrupts the way in which the world is supposed to work. It can disappear almost as instantaneously.
I have this working theory that the main cause of traffic after a car accident is rarely the accident itself. I think people just slow down to get a closer look at the wreckage.
Stop wishing that the traffic wasn't so heavy, you live here, this is rush hour, deal with it.
Traffic in the streets of Bombay is chaotic at best. Riding a bicycle is a dangerous occupation. However, there are hundreds of them on the streets competing with the cars and buses and lorries because it is the poor man's mode of transport.
That was never on my radar, traffic stopping. It was never important to me.
Parades are man's attempt to make traffic exciting.
With the single exception of Park Lane, every north-south route in London slows traffic to the pace of a wounded gnat with pleurisy struggling with a squaddie's backpack.
I'm looking at the window and can't understand why there are six hundred thousand SUVs here in this little town. No one can even move. Why doesn't everyone just get out and walk?
The beaten path can be a busy and distracting place.
I'm trying to look at many, many things in modern life that I believe are going faster, and I'm trying to look at why they're going faster and what effect they have on us. We all know about FedEx and instant pudding, but it doesn't mean we've looked at all the consequences of our desire for speed.
Why do they call it rush hour when it lasts days and nobody can rush anywhere?
In New York, there are so many potholes, they're like craters on the moon. That's another traffic thing.
The Busy Road
I am so used to it by now
that when the traffic falls silent,
I think a storm is coming.
I'm being followed so much I'm causing traffic jams.
Let's have a moment of silence for all those Americans who are stuck
in traffic on their way to the gym to ride the stationary bicycle.
Revolution looks at the intersection ahead and pushes people to do the right thing.
Runners are bouncing up and down at the curb waiting for lights to change. Cops are in coffee shops dealing with bagel deficiencies.
A traffic jam is a collision between free enterprise and socialism. Free enterprise produces automobiles faster than socialism can build roads and road capacity.
We did such a great job of creating the interstate highway system in Oklahoma City that we don't have traffic congestion. You can actually get a speeding ticket during rush hour in the city. That's how great our traffic flows.
When you're in your lane, there's no traffic.
One time in your life
You've got the route in hand
But the map is stuck
They said it's not your fault
The tires are tired the camera moves
And your driver's been pulled
the busy street while I brushed the
Don't stand in traffic and complain about all the cars.
All the earth is seamed with roads, and all the sea is furrowed with the tracks of ships, and over all the roads and all the waters a continuous stream of people passes up and down - traveling, as they say, for their pleasure. What is it, I wonder, that they go out to see?
People do really stupid things while driving.
Every bit of our lives revolves around how we get from one place to another and how long it's going to take to get there and what time of day you have to leave to do it.
Los Angeles is an amazing city to live in, but the traffic is unbelievable. It's overwhelming at times. It's the source of a lot of frustration.
Moroccan traffic isn't like normal traffic. It's armed combat, a war of wills, in which only the very bravest have a chance to survive.
It's all about the parking
How many times have you been on the freeway and had someone fly by you at 100 mph then end up two cars ahead of you at the off ramp? What's the point?
The morning drizzle tightened the District's notorious braided-knot commute into a noose of traffic. - Scott Drayco
People hurried past, the others of the street, endless anonymous, twenty-one lives per second, race-walking in their faces and pigments, sprays of fleetest being.
Red lights, green lights, stop and go jive. Headlines, deadlines, jamming your mind.
He who travels in the middle of the road is hit by traffic from both directions.
This was the weird, scary stuff Denny and Mitch lived for. Every afternoon, they would gather up their papers to sell and hoof it over to the library to check the District Department of Transportation (DDOT) website for wherever rush-hour traffic was at its worst. Logjams were their meat.
Now-a-days lower Broadway is blocked with traffic at this hour and everyone walks; even the decrepit John Jacob Astor can be seen crawling along the street like some ancient snail, his viscous track the allure of money. Instead
Already a sizable traffic jam blocked the Bund. Once again the crush and clutter of Shanghai had engulfed its invaders.
This city runs fast, no one has time to sit with themselves,
No time to look into our pain or see the same despair in everyone else
Intersections are crash magnets.
Where there is increase there is a constant flow of people
The various forms of despair at the various stations on the road.
Traffic will not yield to our will, neither will global finances, the environment, political rhetoric, nor people in general. There is no way to solve the problem of stress through blaming environmental factors.
Roads remain the essential network of the non-virtual world. They are the infrastructure upon which almost all other infrastructure depends. They are the paths of human endeavor.
The purpose of road traffic is speed, not safety.
local transport:
Life happens at intersections.
So many men, so little parking.
33% of urban traffic is actively seeking a parking space.
April prepares her green traffic light and the world thinks Go.
Meandering cows, tenacious bicyclers, belching taxis, rickshaws, fearless pedestrians and the occasional mobile 'cigarette and sweets' stand all fought our taxi for room on the narrow two-lane road turned local byway.
You're a rotten driver," I protested. "Either you ought to be more careful, or you oughtn't to drive at all." "I am careful." "No, you're not." "Well, other people are," she said lightly. "What's that got to do with it?" "They'll keep out of my way," she insisted. "It takes two to make an accident.
It was dark and raining, with bad visibility, but this was Jersey, and we don't slow down for anything.
Farmers, merchants, manufacturers, and the traveling public have all had their troubles with the transportation lines, and the difficulties to which these struggles have given rise have produced that problem which is even now apparently far from solution.
There are roads where people go, and where they should arrive is their mission.
central thoroughfare, stood a
The modern world is a crowd of very rapid racing cars all brought to a standstill and stuck in a block of traffic.
I stand beside Tom's barn and ponder the benign heedlessness of the people in the speeding cars, and here I am in the speeding car. In my heart I wish the bypass had never been built; in my car I never take the old way.
If you make more roads, you will have more traffic.
I stand on the sidewalk watching it because the responsibility is mine and I must, I take a very firm hold on the handles of the baby carriage and I wheel it into the traffic.
A commuter tie-up consists of you - and people who for some reason won't use public transit.
I have some road rage inside of me. Traffic, especially in L.A., is a pet peeve of mine.
When you think of bike couriers, you think of hyper speed. They get paid by how fast they can drop stuff off. The faster you go, the more chances you take. And the more chances you take, the greater the war between cyclists and cars.
Sometimes I get frustrated in traffic. I typically start going deep with my cab driver and Twitter feed - simultaneously - to take my mind off the gridlock. I enjoy live-tweeting my cab rides.
Weekdays, New York City's financial district bustles with activity. Its streets are rivers of rushing humanity, its air is thick with the sounds of traffic.
I don't understand bus lanes. Why do poor people have to get to places quicker than I do?
There is nothing worse for me than sitting in traffic. That's what killed me in L.A.
From 1997 when we came in, you guys and the public bought seven million more cars. You didn't get rid of the second car, did you? So what is happening is the growth of cars on the motorway.
The speeding toy cars produce in the viewer the stress of living in a dynamic, active and bustling 21st-century city,
tanks and trucks over the same roads,
When speed gets in the blood, one must drive to live.
The secret to Traffic has nothing to do with Traffic and everything to do with Conversion and Economics.
I love this thing about L.A. that we always make fun of but always do, which is talk about traffic and which direction we're going.
There are plans for a new high-speed train between Los Angeles and San Francisco. It will make the trip time 30 minutes. People in L.A. are like, Yes! And people in San Francisco are like, Yeah, sure, great. We look forward to seeing you.
The biggest disease in North America is busyness.
To accomplish our destiny it is not enough to merely guard prudently against road accidents. We must also cover before nightfall the distance assigned to each of us.
Rushing, rushing, rushing. We are always rushing. Never have enough time here, always trying to make our way there. Need to have left here five minutes ago, need to be there now.
going on between-- Pat White
Every scandal has its road kill: the pedestrians who stumble into the headlights of the oncoming 18-wheeler.
The road comes to an end just when it ought to be getting somewhere. The passengers alight, shaken and weary, to begin, all over again, something else.
The system of transportation is not coherent; it is not treated as integral. Roads compete with with railroads and airlines in chaotic fashion, and at immense cost to the nation.
the fear of being trapped between cars.
When you see the Escalades and the Hummers driving down the street, at least in Los Angeles, this dry, flat desert with shopping malls, when you see someone driving one of those through this you're like, 'You are definitely part of the problem.'
The rumble of a subway train,
the rattle of the taxis.
Sometimes all it takes to stop traffic is for that right pair of red pumps.
A parade looks like a bunch of people are excited about being in traffic.
The city was a hive from this height, the people and the yellow cabs moving about in the street below like pre-programmed insects. (Dark City Lights)
Why did people do it? Why this herd curiosity about a street, a house, windows, doors? He was a public servant, the Inspector mused, but there were times when he would enjoy loading all the rubbernecks onto barges and towing them out to sea to be served, with ceremony, to sharks.
Delhi came as a shock. There were so many people, and oh, the traffic.
To call New York's traffic at holiday time a nightmare is to understate.
Busy, busy, busy.
the road is life
People with places to go and people with no place to go; people with a purpose and people with no purpose; people trying to hold time back and people trying to urge it forward
Traffic is only one of the side effects of growth.
Never be afraid to stop traffic.
They've said I want to direct pictures. I couldn't direct traffic.
We are caught in a traffic jam of discursive thought.
In spite of all our speeding it's still the style to be late.
A protected bicycle lane in the city in a developing country is a powerful symbol, showing that a citizen on the $30 bicycle is as important as one in a $30,000 car
The streets of a modern city are depressing. They are so aimless and so weak in their lines and their masses, that the mind and senses jog on their way like passengers in a train with blinds down in an overcrowded carriage.