Quotes About City

How, then, might we contrive… one noble lie to persuade if possible the rulers themselves, but failing that the rest of the city?

Let there be one man who has a city obedient to his will, and he might bring into existence the ideal polity about which the world is so incredulous.

Ciudad llena de inmigrantes, sin alma todavía tras sus edificios de vidrio y sus autopistas de concreto, donde el éxito se mide en millones de bolívares, Caracas no tiene tiempo para reconocer talentos que no vengan consagrados de antemano - Plinio Apuleyo Mendoza

Antiphanes said merrily that in a certain city the cold was so intense that words were congealed as soon as spoken, but that after some time they thawed and became audible; so that the words spoken in winter were articulated next summer.

He made the city [Athens], great as it was when he took it, the greatest and richest of all cities, and grew to be superior in power to kings and tyrants. Some of these actually appointed him guardian of their sons, but he did not make his estate a single drachma greater than it was when his father left it to him.

Kami memang orang miskin. Di mata orang kota kemiskinan itu kesalahan. Lupa mereka lauk yg dimakannya itu kerja kami.

It is only necessary to make war with five things; with the maladies of the body, the ignorances of the mind, with the passions of the body, with the seditions of the city and the discords of families.

A real New Yorker likes the sound of a garbage truck in the morning.

Like all cities, Beirut has many layers, and I had been familiar with one or two. What I was introduced to that day with Ali and Kamal was the Beirut of its people. You take different groups, put them on top of each other, simmer for a thousand years, keep adding more and more strange tribes, simmer for another few thousand years, salt and pepper with religion, and what you get is a delightful mess of a stew that still tastes delectable and exotic, no matter how many times you partake of it.

Beirut is the Elizabeth Taylor of cities: insane, beautiful, tacky, falling apart, aging, and forever drama laden. She'll also marry any infatuated suitor who promises to make her life more comfortable, no matter how inappropriate he is.

Unlike the main streets that cut the city with a butcher's cleaver, this ancient one wiggles its hips quite a bit. It negotiates with the neighborhood, it haggles, gives and takes; rarely is it straight, it is intrinsic.

Beirut è la Elizabeth Taylor delle città: folle, malandata, a pezzi, sulla via del tramonto, e sempre carica di drammaticità. Sposerà anche uno spasimante infatuato che le promette di renderle la vita più agiata, nonostante non sia all'altezza.

Beirut has survived for thousands and thousands of years by spreading her beautiful legs for every army within smelling distance.

Never has my city been welcoming of the unpaired or the impaired.

In the early pages of his gorgeous novel Sepharad, Antonio Munoz Molina writes: "Only those of us who have left know what the city used to be like and are aware of how much it has changed; it's the people who stayed who can't remember, who seeing it day after day have been losing that memory, allowing it to be distorted, although they think they're the one who remained faithful, and that we, in a sense, are deserters.

At my dying hour, and over my long life,A clock strikes somewhere at the city's edge.

At evening, with the sun no longer overhead, the air developed a kind of viscosity in which time seemed to stand very still and the labyrinth of the city, no longer bisected by light and shade and unstirred by the afternoon breezes, appeared suspended in a kind of dream, paused in an atmosphere of extraordinary pallor and thickness.

She turned her head, still smiling, and looked down the hill towards the city, where cars were moving in swarms along the roads beside the river. The distinctive shape of her nose, which from the front slightly marred her fine-featured face, in profile attained beauty: it was upturned and snub-ended and had a deep V in its bridge, as though someone had drawn it with a certain licence, to make a point about the relationship between destiny and form.

Home was his favorite place too. But home for him was anywhere Jane happened to be. Never in his life had he loved someone as much as he loved her. So much that it scared him sometimes. He pulled her against him and looked out over the city. He was in love with his wife. Yeah, he knew what that said about him. That he was a goner. Leg-shackled for life. Whipped by a short woman with a big attitude. Yep, that's what it said about him, and he didn't care.

Heard from whom? I always hated this small-town-grapevine nonsense. That's something I love about the city. The anonymity. No one knows who you are, and no one gives a shit about your business. It's a beautiful thing.

Sometimes the truth has difficulty breaching the city walls of our beliefs. A lie, dressed in the correct livery, passes through more easily.

I rose to standing, like Lars upon the barbican, the dark city spread at my feet. Lights twinkled in tavern windows, bobbed at the Wolfstoot Bridge construction. Once I had been suspended over this vast space, hanging and helpless, at a dragon's mercy. Once I had feared that telling the truth would be like falling, that love would be like hitting the ground, but here I was, my feet firmly planted, standing on my own. We were all monsters and bastards, and we were all beautiful.

The voters have been very clear that we need to address the homelessness and housing crisis that is affecting our City, and I remain focused on solving these issues.

I'd love to have our trains, our subway cars and our taxis built right here in New York City. You can create 40,000 living wage jobs... the city's contracting power is huge.