Anyone telling about his travels must be a liar, . . . for if a traveler doesn't visit his narrative with the spirit and techniques of fiction, no one will want to hear it.

Anybody who notices unpleasant facts in the have-a-nice-day world we live in is going to be designated a curmudgeon.

Travelers learn not just foreign customs and curious cuisines and unfamiliar beliefs and novel forms of government. They learn, if they are lucky, humility.

I find nothing more depressing than optimism.

Exploration belongs to the Renaissance, travel to the bourgeois age, tourism to our proletarian moment.

What someone doesn't want you to publish is journalism; all else is publicity.

The wise traveler learns not to repeat successes but tries new places all the time.