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

Our nature lies in movement; complete calm is death.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

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.

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