Children are all foreigners. We treat them as such.

When the missionaries first came to Africa they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, “Let us pray.” We closed our eyes. When we opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land.

All of life is a foreign country.

Let the French but have England, and they won’t want to conquer it.

The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.

The conquest of the earth, which mostly means the taking it away from those who have a different complexion or slightly flatter noses than ourselves, is not a pretty thing when you look into it too much.

“Abroad,” that large home of ruined reputations.

I am a man: I consider nothing human alien to me.

By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart.

There is no foreign land; it is the traveler only that is foreign.

Many need no other provocation to enmity than that they find themselves excelled.

Such then is the human state, that to wish greatness for one’s country is to wish harm to one’s neighbors.

Of troubles none is greater than to be robbed of one’s native land.