“To move, to breathe, to fly, to float,To gain all while you give,To roam the roads of lands remote,To travel is to live.”

“To travel is to live.”

“‎"Does all the beauty of the world stop when you die?""No," said the Old Oak; "it will last much longer - longer than I can even think of.""Well, then," said the little May-fly, "we have the same time to live; only we reckon differently.”

“Travelling expands the mind rarely.”

“But shouldn't all of us on earth give the best we have to others and offer whatever is in our power?”

“In the days of Moses and the prophets such a man would have been counted among the wise men of the land; in the Middle Ages he would have been burned at the stake.”

“Where are your sons?" asked the prince."Well, it's not so easy to give an answer when you ask a stupid question!" said the woman.”