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.

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

I am leaving the town to the invaders: increasingly numerous, mediocre, dirty, badly behaved, shameless tourists.

Our nature lies in movement; complete calm is death.

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.”

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

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