Top 77 Suitcase Quotes

My kids miss me when I’m away, but I don’t mind living out of a suitcase. The U.K., U.S., France, Germany, Iraq… it’s such a thrill meeting people of different cultures, learning about and from them. It’s changed my perception about life, humanity and spirituality.

Until I was 42, I could fit everything that I owned into two suitcases.

Everything I own can fit in two suitcases and a foot locker.

All I really had was a suitcase and my drums. So I took them up to Seattle and hoped it would work.

I wanted to feel at home so I’ve brought Yorkshire Tea Bags in my suitcase, as well as my slippers!

The technology is just so far gone. It’s just like back in the day you needed a suitcase just to have a cell phone. The battery was so heavy, it was like carrying a gallon of soda around with you all day.

I always have a suitcase ready to go. My wife and I are both very much like this. We’re both vagabonds, and we have been since the time we were married.

When I moved to L.A., I had nothing but a computer, a lighting set, and a suitcase.

A freshly pressed suit is a miracle when you’re travelling. When your suitcase has turned all your clothes into creased rags, and you’ve crossed so many time zones that you can’t tell a Monday from a Thursday, putting on a freshly pressed suit for breakfast is like spending a week in a spa.

I have had a pretty hardcore crash course on living out of a suitcase. Some people take consistency in their lives for granted. When you have little to none, you discover it’s kind of a nice thing.

Money doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ve made a lot of money, but I want to enjoy life and not stress myself building my bank account. I give lots away and live simply, mostly out of a suitcase in hotels. We all know that good health is much more important.

The first thing, when I got the money, I knew I would support somebody. And the person I supported was my family. Because we were really in debt with the money. And – so I gave to my father this suitcase full of money. And he couldn’t believe it. And that was something very special.

People think being famous is so glamorous, but half the time you’re in a strange hotel room living out of a suitcase.

I own more pairs of Calvin Klein underwear than I can count. At any given time, I probably have 50 to 60 pairs on deck. I travel with an entire suitcase of underwear and t-shirts, and they’re all Calvin Klein.

The temptation, when you go into Kickstarter, is that the first three days are wonderful, and you believe you’re a god. You go in your spreadsheet and think, ‘If every day‘s like day one, we’re going to have suitcases of money arriving at the front door.’ Then, it dips into this slump.

I kept being told, ‘If you really want to build a start up, you have to be in San Francisco,’ so I ended up taking out a suitcase. It did occur to me to do it in London but it’s very, very difficult to build a start up in London – so I guess I was being lazy.

But 17 years ago, I arrived at CNN with a suitcase, with my bicycle, and with about 100 dollars.

The body is simply the suitcase that carries us around.

I only travel with one suitcase – Mulberry does an incredible one. I always check it; the TSA restrictions are so tricky.

I’m always just travelling out of a suitcase. You get used to it.

I will always cherish the year 2019 in my life because I’ve literally lived out of a suitcase, travelled from one set to another and played such a variety of characters, which is a dream for any actor.

A few years after I finished skating, someone asked where my medals were. I’m like, ‘In a suitcase somewhere.’ Now they’re nicely displayed in an ice rink, but medals don’t really mean that much. It’s the experience, the story of the skating, the love.

I’m kind of a gypsy, so I love living out of a suitcase and going from place to place meeting people.

I’m used to living out of a suitcase.

I’m a vagabond. I have a suitcase that is ready to go at a moment‘s notice. The thought of being in one place for a long time, or playing one character for a long time, is terrifying for me.

One day, I found my dad‘s dressing-gown in an old suitcase, and it transported me back to when I was five and thought he was a god or a superhero who could do anything. After that, I wrote my first positive book about fathers, about my dad.

I’ve always hated the idea of carrying grudges and resentments around like a load of mouldy suitcases.

I am that dork who packs a bike helmet in her suitcase.

I’m a pretty organised packer, laying out everything beforehand, as I don’t like to take extra stuff. I’ve got a good eye for judging how much I can stuff into one suitcase. I’ve often not brought the right items, but I’d never avoided a chance to shop, unlike most men.

My whole approach to wardrobe is, throw it in a suitcase and make sure they don’t press it, for Pete’s sake, so I can try to display some rumpled charm. Actually, I’m just a pig. I’ve got coffee stains on my pants. I think they’re coffee stains, anyway.

I live out of my suitcase and I’m happy to do so.

I love living on the road; I live out of a suitcase.

And my life for the first – you know, when I was in my 20s and 30s, I had my career, and I traveled the world, I lived out of a suitcase. I stayed up until dawn. I did all of those things that were very exciting.

Paddington Bear was a refugee with a label – ‘Please look after this bear. Thank you’, and he had a little suitcase.

The worst gift that I ever gave a girl was a suitcase for Christmas. As in, ‘I can’t think of anything to give you, but here’s a new suitcase.’ Afterward, I was like, ‘What were you thinking, idiot?’

My husband is leaving me. No dramas, no slammed doors – well, OK, a few slammed doors – and no suitcase in the hall, but there is another woman involved. Her name is Dementia.

I am sick of living out of a suitcase.

I’ve never really considered packing my suitcase and heading to Hollywood.

The towels were so thick there I could hardly close my suitcase.

My 20s were totally bonkers. I was living out of a suitcase and burning the candle at both ends. But I tell you – I am totally over it.

I love my little flat in Spitalfields. Lots of actors live out of a suitcase, so it’s nice to have a base to come back to.

You wrestle one night, get up the next morning and fly out to the next city. You try to work out, you try to get some food into you and, lo and behold, you have to go work again. You are living out of a suitcase.

I’ve always lived out of a suitcase. I was in a new city every three months. When I was a model, I traveled the world, and as an actor you’re traveling from movie set to movie set. So I’ve never been in one place long enough for anything super-bad to happen.

I had a boom box, but I didn’t go too far with it because I had a really, really big one. It was like the size of a suitcase, and I was just a little kid.

Its really hard to be roommates with people if your suitcases are much better than theirs.

Sir Terry Pratchett – he was knighted in 2009, and on him it looked earned rather than entitled – wrote about dragons, wizards, turtles, witches, time-travelling monks, and suitcases with legs.

Touring is very grueling. It’s very taxing on the body and living out of your suitcase, going from city to city, night after night. It’s a tough job.

We couldn’t afford anything. Suitcase, clothes, everything, Barellan people bought for me.

Every summer my husband and I pack our suitcases, load our kids into the car, and drive from tense, crowded New York City to my family’s cottage in Maine. It’s on an island, with stretches of sea and sandy beaches, rocky coasts, and pine trees. We barbecue, swim, lie around, and try to do nothing.

I’m the breadwinner. I kill the spiders. Actually I don’t kill them. I put them in a plastic bag and take them outside. I take out the trash cans. I change the light bulbs. I lug the 50 lbs. suitcases down the stairs.

I remember the beginnings of the Kurzweil reading machine. I was one of the first to meet Ray Kurzweil and purchase the reading machine in Boston. To think that the machine was at least two and a half large suitcases at the time, and now you have a camera and it takes a picture and you have sound.

Ceausescu thought I had only a few medals, but I have a room full of them in Bucharest, between 150-200 in all. They needed suitcases to haul them out.

Every country I would go to, even if it was just on a modeling job, I would go to their markets. If I went to Morocco for ‘Elle’ magazine, I would be in the spice markets during my off time and just come back with a suitcase full of stuff that I really wanted to try.

When I’m filming, I live out of a suitcase, so everything is thrown everywhere. In real life, I’m a bit tidier.

Fear, anxiety and neurosis: that’s just in the suitcase when you’re an actor.

What I can’t fit into my suitcase is probably something I don’t need.

I’d like to learn how to cook. I’ve hauled around this big, old, heavy Martha Stewart cookbook in my suitcase to Cape Cod, L.A., Paris. I don’t know what possessed me.

I’ve been acting for 25 years, living out of suitcases on theater tours or film locations.

Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.

Like most artists, I live out of a suitcase.

I travel so much and am always living out of a suitcase, so my favorite saying is ‘Wherever you go, there you are’. I love it because it’s reassuring to me that you have to live in the moment wherever you happen to be.

Everything important that I have done can be put into a little suitcase.

I have a fleet of Rimowa Topas aluminum suitcases! They’re all covered in stickers from around the world.

I came to New York with no money and just one suitcase. I had my family’s emotional support, but they weren’t able to help me financially.

Dresses that don’t wrinkle are key. They don’t take up a whole lot of space and you can throw four into a suitcase.

I had been living out of a suitcase in hotels, and that was getting to me, so I bought a new house in Hyderabad. I wanted the comfort and warmth of my own home when I return from hectic shootings.

I try to travel as light as possible to avoid baggage issues. Los Angeles airport is notorious for baggage delays, so I’ll often FedEx a suitcase ahead or back so I don’t need to stand around; it also minimises problems at check-in.

I’m from Miami, and when I was 18, I packed a suitcase and left for L.A. permanently to try and make it as an actor.

My grandfather left Cuba when Castro came into power and literally left everything. He had two suitcases and two kids and showed up in New Jersey and waited for my uncle to meet up with him. Imagine – there were no cell phones back then!

When the writing is going really well, whole days and weeks go by, and I suddenly realise I have all these unpaid bills and, my God, I haven‘t unpacked, and the suitcase has been sitting there for three weeks.

In 1976, Jimmy Carter – peanut farmer; carried his own suitcase, imagine that – somewhat tapped America’s durable but shallow reservoir of populism. By 1980, ordinariness in high office had lost its allure.

I love books; my suitcases are always full of them. Books and shoes. I read when I am sad, when I am happy, when I am nervous. My favourite British author is Jane Austen, and my favourite American one is John O’Hara.

The tempo is the suitcase. If the suitcase is too small, everything is completely wrinkled. If the tempo is too fast, everything becomes so scrambled you can’t understand it.

I feel like I live out of a suitcase. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’m a happy traveller.

As I try to get around with a guitar, a banjo and a suitcase of high heels and dresses, I treasure that little ukulele.

I hate suitcases. With a passion.

I love Tumi because of the lifetime guarantee. And their luggage is just so solid. Looks good. Versatile. My carry-on bag is Tumi. My hanging bag is Tumi. My big suitcase is Tumi. All black. Love it.