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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.