There ain’t no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.

Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There’s no looking at a building here after seeing Italy.

Travel is like adultery: one is always tempted to be unfaithful to one’s own country. To have imagination is inevitably to be dissatisfied with where you live.

More and more I like to take a train. I understand why the French prefer it to automobiling—it is so much more sociable, and of course these days so much more of an adventure, and the irregularity of its regularity is fascinating.

I think that to get under the surface and really appreciate the beauty of any country, one has to go there poor.

People commonly travel the world over to see rivers and mountains, new stars, garish birds, freak fish, grotesque breeds of human; they fall into an animal stupor that gapes at existence, and they think they have seen something.

When a traveler returneth home, let him not leave the countries where he hath traveled altogether behind him.

The soul of a journey is liberty, perfect liberty, to think, feel, do just as one pleases. We go on a journey chiefly to be free of all impediments and of all inconveniences—to leave ourselves behind, much more to get rid of others.

According to the law of custom, and perhaps of reason, foreign travel completes the education of an English gentleman.

The traveler with nothing on him sings in the robber’s face.

Traveling is like flirting with life. It’s like saying, “I would stay here and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.”

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

In the Middle Ages people were tourists because of their religion, whereas now they are tourists because tourism is their religion.