I haven’t been everywhere, but it’s on my list.

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

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

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

See one promontory (said Socrates of old), one mountain, one sea, one river, and see all.

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

After midnight the moon set and I was alone with the stars. I have often said that the lure of flying is the lure of beauty, and I need no other flight to convince me that the reason flyers fly, whether they know it or not, is the aesthetic appeal of flying.

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.”

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

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.

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

Travelers, poets, and liars are three words all of one significance.

Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will—whatever we may think.