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

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.

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.

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

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

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

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

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

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

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

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.

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.

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.