There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

A traveler’s chief aim should be to make men wiser and better, and to improve their minds by the bad—as well as good—example of what they deliver concerning foreign places.

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.

It is delightful to read on the spot the impressions and opinions of tourists who visited a hundred years ago, in the vehicles and with the aesthetic prejudices of the period, the places which you are visiting now. The voyage ceases to be a mere tour through space; you travel through time and thought as well.

Thanks to the interstate highway system, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything.

The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.

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

One should always have one’s boots on and be ready to leave.

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

Those who travel heedlessly from place to place, observing only their distance from each other and attending only to their accommodation at the inn at night, set out fools, and will certainly return so.

The traveler was active; he went strenuously in search of people, of adventure, of experience. The tourist is passive; he expects interesting things to happen to him. He goes “sightseeing.”

For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.

If I had no duties, and no reference to futurity, I would spend my life in driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman.