When I say, I can see Quinn's point, I refer to the protagonist of Paul Auster's novel City of Glass.
The passage to which I can specifically relate at that moment in my exploration deals with Quinn's love of the random stroll.
 

Auster writes,

"More than anything else, however, what he liked to do was walk. Nearly everyday, rain or shine, hot or cold, he would leave his apartment to walk through the city - never really going anywhere, but simply going wherever his legs happened to take him.

New York was an inexhaustible space, a labyrinth of endless steps, and no matter how far he'd walked, no matter how well he came to know its neighborhoods and streets, it always left him with the feeling of being lost. Lost, not only in the city, but within himself as well. Each time he took a walk, he felt as though he were leaving himself behind, and by giving himself up to the movement of the streets, by reducing himself to a seeing eye, he was able to escape the obligation to think, and this, more than anything else, brought him a measure of peace, a salutary emptiness within" (page 8).