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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.”

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

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

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.

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.