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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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.

Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There’s no looking at a building here after seeing Italy.

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

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.

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.

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.