Every Englishman abroad, until it is proved to the contrary, likes to consider himself a traveller and not a tourist.

I have a good mind not to take Aloysius to Venice. I don't want him to meet a lot of horrid Italian bears and pick up bad habits.

One does not travel, any more than one falls in love, to collect material. It is simply part of one's life...

I [had] added another small piece to the pages of the atlas that were real to me.

If one's object is ascetic, it is far better to stay in London or Paris or New York; there is practically no extreme of heat or cold, physical risk, loneliness, hunger or thirst that cannot, with a little ingenuity, be conveniently achieved in the centres of civilization.