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

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

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.

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.”

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.

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

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

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.

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

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.

Travel is like adultery: one is always tempted to be unfaithful to one’s own country. To have imagination is inevitably to be dissatisfied with where you live.

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