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

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

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

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.

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

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.

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.”

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

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

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

Traveling is like gambling: it is ever connected with winning and losing, and generally where least expected we receive more or less than we hoped for.

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.

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