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

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.”

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

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

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.

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

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

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

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

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

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

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.