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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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

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.

There is nothing worse for mortals than a wandering life.

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

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.

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

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