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Journeys end in lovers meeting.

I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.
The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist see what he has come to see.
I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.
When one realizes that his life is worthless he either commits suicide or travels.
A solitary traveler can sleep from state to state, from day to night, from day to day, in the long womb of its controlled interior. It is the cradle that never stops rocking after the lullaby is over. It is the biggest sleeping tablet in the world, and no one need ever swallow the pill, for it swallows them.
Travelling is like flirting with life. It's like saying, I would stay and love you, but I have to go; this is my station.
He travels best that knows when to return. Middleton 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 journey is like marriage. The certain way to be wrong is to think you control it.
Traveling makes a man wiser, but less happy.
Life is a journey that must be traveled no matter how bad the roads and accommodations.
The fool wanders, a wise man travels.
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.
For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilization, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints.
Visits always give pleasure; if not the arrival, the departure.
A man should ever be ready booted to take his journey.
To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries.
I would like to spend my whole life traveling, if I could borrow another life to spend at home.
Travelers are like poets. They are mostly an angry race.
The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.
I think that wherever your journey takes you, there are new gods waiting there, with divine patience -- and laughter.
Travel is ninety percent anticipation and ten percent recollection.
It is better to travel hopefully than to arrive.
Life, as the most ancient of all metaphors insists, is a journey; and the travel book, in its deceptive simulation of the journey's fits and starts, rehearses life's own fragmentation. More even than the novel, it embraces the contingency of things.
Traveling is not just seeing the new; it is also leaving behind. Not just opening doors; also closing them behind you, never to return. But the place you have left forever is always there for you to see whenever you shut your eyes.
If we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored. One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.
Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety; and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.
In traveling, a man must carry knowledge with him, if he would bring home knowledge.
A man who leaves home to mend himself and others is a philosopher; but he who goes from country to country, guided by the blind impulse of curiosity, is a vagabond.
A wise traveler never depreciates their own country.
Like all great travelers, I have seen more than I remember and remember more than I have seen.
To be a tourist is to escape accountability. Errors and failings don't cling to you the way they do back home. You're able to drift across continents and languages, suspending the operation of sound thought. Tourism is the march of stupidity. You're expected to be stupid. The entire mechanism of the host country is geared to travelers acting stupidly. You walk around dazed, squinting into fold-out maps. You don't know how to talk to people, how to get anywhere, what the money means, what time it is, what to eat or how to eat it. Being stupid is the pattern, the level and the norm. You can exist on this level for weeks and months without reprimand or dire consequence. Together with thousands, you are granted immunities and broad freedoms. You are an army of fools, wearing bright polyesters, riding camels, taking pictures of each other, haggard, dysenteric, thirsty. There is nothing to think about but the next shapeless event.
The idea that seeing life means going from place to place and doing a great variety of obvious things is an illusion natural to dull minds.
The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land.
I have been a stranger in a strange land.
I traveled among unknown men, in lands beyond the sea; nor England! did I know till then what love I bore to thee.
I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train.
I was disappointed in Niagara -- most people must be disappointed in Niagara. Every American bride is taken there, and the sight of the stupendous waterfall must be one of the earliest, if not the keenest, disappointments in American married life.
O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you, you express me better than I can express myself.
Those that say you can't take it with you never saw a car packed for a vacation trip.
The bigger the summer vacation the harder the fall.
The alternative to a vacation is to stay home and tip every third person you see.
Old men and far travelers may lie with authority.
If it's tourist season, why can't we kill them?
Every year it takes less time to fly across the Atlantic and more time to drive to the office.
You perceive I generalize with intrepidity from single instances. It is the tourist's custom.
Man is flying too fast for a world that is round. Soon he will catch up with himself in a great rear end collision.
Only the traveling is good which reveals to me the value of home and enables me to enjoy it better.
He who is only a traveler learns things at second-hand and by the halves, and is poor authority. We are most interested when science reports what those men already know practically or instinctively, for that alone is a true humanity, or account of human experience.
Inter-railers are the ambulatory equivalent of Macdonald's, walking testimony to the erosion of French culture.
Extensive traveling induces a feeling of encapsulation, and travel, so broadening at first, contracts the mind.
Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.
To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labor.
Using a camera appeases the anxiety which the work-driven feel about not working when they are on vacation and supposed to be having fun. They have something to do that is like a friendly imitation of work: they can take pictures.
When I was very young and the urge to be someplace was on me, I was assured by mature people that maturity would cure this itch. When years described me as mature, the remedy prescribed was middle age. In middle age I was assured that greater age would calm my fever and now that I am fifty-eight perhaps senility will do the job. Nothing has worked. In other words, I don't improve, in further words, once a bum always a bum. I fear the disease is incurable.
An involuntary return to the point of departure is, without doubt, the most disturbing of all journeys.
Life on board a pleasure steamer violates every moral and physical condition of healthy life except fresh air. It is a guzzling, lounging, gambling, dog's life. The only alternative to excitement is irritability.
Travel is the most private of pleasures. There is no greater bore than the travel bore. We do not in the least want to hear what he has seen in Hong-Kong.
One of these days in your travels, a guy is going to come up to you and show you a nice brand-new deck of cards on which the seal is not yet broken, and this guy is going to offer to bet you that he can make the Jack of Spades jump out of the deck and squirt cider in your ear. But, son, do not bet this man, for as sure as you are standing there, you are going to end up with an earful of cider.
In the middle ages people were tourists because of their religion, whereas now they are tourists because tourism is their religion.
If my ship sails from sight, it doesn't mean my journey ends, it simply means the river bends.
As for pictures and museums, that don't trouble me. The worst of going abroad is that you've always got to look at things of that sort. To have to do it at home would be beyond a joke.
Most travel is best of all in the anticipation or the remembering; the reality has more to do with losing your luggage.
We travelers are in very hard circumstances. If we say nothing but what has been said before us, we are dull and have observed nothing. If we tell anything new, we are laughed at as fabulous and romantic.
Does this boat go to Europe, France?
Comes over one an absolute necessity to move. And what is more, to move in some particular direction. A double necessity then: to get on the move, and to know whither.
The tourist who moves about to see and hear and open himself to all the influences of the places which condense centuries of human greatness is only a man in search of excellence.
Behold then Septimus Dodge returning to Dodge-town victorious. Not crowned with laurel, it is true, but wreathed in lists of things he has seen and sucked dry. Seen and sucked dry, you know: Venus de Milo, the Rhine or the Coliseum: swallowed like so many clams, and left the shells.
Without stirring abroad, one can know the whole world; Without looking out of the window one can see the way of heaven. The further one goes the less one knows.
Thanks to the interstate highway system, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything.
The map is not the territory.
A route differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another. A route has no meaning in itself; its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop. A route is the triumphant devaluation of space, which thanks to it has been reduced to a mere obstacle to human movement and a waste of time.
If you look like your passport picture you're too ill to travel.
Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen.
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.
Worth seeing? Yes; but not worth going to see.
As the Spanish proverb says, He who would bring home the wealth of the Indies, must carry the wealth of the Indies with him. So it is in travelling; a man must carry knowledge with him, if he would bring home knowledge.
The use of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality, and instead of thinking how things may be, to see them as they are.
He that travels in theory has no inconveniences; he has shade and sunshine at his disposal, and wherever he alights finds tables of plenty and looks of gaiety. These ideas are indulged till the day of departure arrives, the chaise is called, and the progress of happiness begins. A few miles teach him the fallacies of imagination. The road is dusty, the air is sultry, the horses are sluggish. He longs for the time of dinner that he may eat and rest. The inn is crowded, his orders are neglected, and nothing remains but that he devour in haste what the cook has spoiled, and drive on in quest of better entertainment. He finds at night a more commodious house, but the best is always worse than he expected.
Though there are some disagreeable things in Venice there is nothing so disagreeable as the visitors.
Being on tour sends me crazy, I drink too much and out comes the John Mcenroe in me.
Your true traveler finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty -- his excessive freedom. He accepts his boredom, when it comes, not merely philosophically, but almost with pleasure.
They change their climate, not their soul, who rush across the sea.
Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up.
Of journeying the benefits are many: the freshness it bringeth to the heart, the seeing and hearing of marvelous things, the delight of beholding new cities, the meeting of unknown friends, and the learning of high manners.
The country of the tourist pamphlet always is another country, an embarrassing abstraction of the desirable that, thank God, does not exist on this planet, where there are always ants and bad smells and empty Coca-Cola bottles to keep the grubby finger-print of reality upon the beautiful.
The important thing about travel in foreign lands is that it breaks the speech habits and makes you blab less, and breaks the habitual space-feeling because of different village plans and different landscapes. It is less important that there are different mores, for you counteract these with your own reaction-formations.
Traveling is like gambling: it is always connected with winning and losing, and generally where it is least expected we receive, more or less than what we hoped for.
Travel makes a wise man better, and a fool worse
It would be nice to travel if you knew where you were going and where you would live at the end or do we ever know, do we ever live where we live, we're always in other places, lost, like sheep.
The average tourist wants to go to places where there are no tourists.
No man should travel until he has learned the language of the country he visits. Otherwise he voluntarily makes himself a great baby-so helpless and so ridiculous.
Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.
Travel is a fools paradise.
Traveling is a fool's paradise. Our first journeys discover to us the indifference of places.
I am not much an advocate for traveling, and I observe that men run away to other countries because they are not good in their own, and run back to their own because they pass for nothing in the new places. For the most part, only the light characters travel. Who are you that have no task to keep you at home?
Our instructed vagrancy, which has hardly time to linger by the hedgerows, but runs away early to the tropics, and is at home with palms and banyans --which is nourished on books of travel, and stretches the theatre of its imagination to the Zambesi.
Sailing round the world in a dirty gondola oh, to be back in the land of Coca-Cola!
Tourism, human circulation considered as consumption is fundamentally nothing more than the leisure of going to see what has become banal.
The personal appropriation of clich?s is a condition for the spread of cultural tourism.
The routines of tourism are even more monotonous than those of daily life.
The travel writer seeks the world we have lost --the lost valleys of the imagination.
Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.
I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, and of the bitter effects of staying at home with all the narrow prejudices of an Islander, that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.
I swims in the Tagus all across at once, and I rides on an ass or a mule, and swears Portuguese, and have got a diarrhea and bites from the mosquitoes. But what of that? Comfort must not be expected by folks that go a pleasuring.
Travel and society polish one, but a rolling stone gathers no moss, and a little moss is a good thing on a man.
There is no looking at a building here after seeing Italy.
Modern tourist guides have helped raised tourist expectations. And they have provided the natives -- from Kaiser Wilhelm down to the villagers of Chichacestenango -- with a detailed and itemized list of what is expected of them and when. These are the up-to-date scripts for actors on the tourists stage.
Not so many years ago there was no simpler or more intelligible notion than that of going on a journey. Travel --movement through space --provided the universal metaphor for change. One of the subtle confusions --perhaps one of the secret terrors --of modern life is that we have lost this refuge. No longer do we move through space as we once did.
The modern American tourist now fills his experience with pseudo-events. He has come to expect both more strangeness and more familiarity than the world naturally offers. He has come to believe that he can have a lifetime of adventure in two weeks and all the thrills of risking his life without any real risk at all.
Should we have stayed at home and thought of here? Where should we be today? Is it right to be watching strangers in a play in this strangest of theatres?
What childishness is it that while there's breath of life in our bodies, we are determined to rush to see the sun the other way around?
The traveler, however virginal and enthusiastic, does not enjoy an unbroken ecstasy. He has periods of gloom, periods when he asks himself the object of all these exertions, and puts the question whether or not he is really experiencing pleasure. At such times he suspects that he is not seeing the right things, that the characteristic, the right aspects of these strange scenes are escaping him. He looks forward dully to the days of his holiday yet to pass, and wonders how he will dispose of them. He is disgusted because his money is not more, his command of the language so slight, and his capacity for enjoyment so limited.
In America there are two classes of travel - first class, and with children.
I have just been all round the world and have formed a very poor opinion of it.
For the perfect idler, for the passionate observer it becomes an immense source of enjoyment to establish his dwelling in the throng, in the ebb and flow, the bustle, the fleeting and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel at home anywhere; to see the world, to be at the very center of the world, and yet to be unseen of the world, such are some of the minor pleasures of those independent, intense and impartial spirits, who do not lend themselves easily to linguistic definitions. The observer is a prince enjoying his incognito wherever he goes.
I am leaving the town to the invaders: increasingly numerous, mediocre, dirty, badly behaved, shameless tourists.
The more I want to get something done, the less I call it work.
My favorite thing is to go where I have never gone.
The American arrives in Paris with a few French phrases he has culled from a conversational guide or picked up from a friend who owns a beret.
The time to enjoy a European tour is about three weeks after you unpack.
I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world
Traveling is a kind of torture, as it prevents one from sleeping and eating! So when one has finished his job, he should return quickly to his family.