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.

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

All traveling becomes dull in exact proportion to its rapidity.

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

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

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.

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.

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.”

If I had no duties, and no reference to futurity, I would spend my life in driving briskly in a post-chaise with a pretty woman.

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

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.

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.