When we have discovered a continent, or crossed a chain of mountains, it is only to find another ocean or another plain upon the further side. . . . O toiling hands of mortals! O wearied feet, travelling ye know not whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way further, against the setting sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labour.

To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive.

Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light and living slumber to the man who sleeps afield.

There are two things that men should never weary of, goodness and humility; we get none too much of them in this rough world among cold, proud people.

They say cowardice is infectious; but then argument is, on the other hand, a great emboldener.

I am told there are people who do not care for maps, and I find it hard to believe.

No human being ever spoke of scenery for above two minutes at a time, which makes me suspect that we hear too much of it in literature.