Quotes About City

I love D.C. - people who have such cosmopolitan background, who are doing interesting things. It's a fraction of the size of Manhattan but the knowledge that people have is amazing.

I am shocked that an internationally renowned city like Chandigarh is facing problems of cleanliness and hygiene.

We have not really advertised Chicago internationally.

It's very easy to stand L.A., which is why it's almost inevitable that all sorts of ideas get entertained.

It's difficult to be truly serious when you're in a city that can't even put up a skyscraper for fear the earth will start up one day and bring the whole thing down around everyone's ears.

They're right. Los Angeles isn't a city. It's a gigantic, sprawling, ongoing studio. Everything is off the record. People don't have time to apologize for its not being a city when their civilized friends suspect them of losing track of the point.

New York has a kind of push," he argues further. "I know. You never have time to think. It's one of its charms." "Yeah, it is.

Mary had been the object of a war between ordinary solid American values and Hollywood, where even money is lost in the shuffle among the hard floors and 5:00 a.m. wardrobe calls of an invisible city named for a plant that never existed, named by a clan that waits for the next movie to sail away on.

In Los Angeles, the supermarkets all have kosher sections, health food sections, Mexican and Thai shelves. These packages of foreign hungers mirror the city with their bilingual instructions.

I did not live in the forests. I lived in the concrete city where I could not see the sky or sunset or stars. I moved at the pace of engines and it was faster than my own breath. I became a stranger to myself and to the rhythms of the Earth.

for in that city [New York] there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy.

Talvez o facto de viver numa grande cidade como Londres me levasse a desconfiar de estranhos, hábito que queria perder.

And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban night is like the night there... Squares after squares of flame, set up and cut into the aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.

And New York is the most beautiful city in the world? It is not far from it. No urban nights are like the night there. I have looked down across the city from high windows. It is then that the great buildings lose reality and take on their magical powers. They are immaterial; that is to say, one sees but the lighted windows. Squares after squares of flame, set and cut into the Aether. Here is our poetry, for we have pulled down the stars to our will.

She loved this city. She just didn't like it much.

Walk to developmental old trombone- I - seeking to be found- inside time!- by one whose blues seek by speaking tunes to this specific city afternoon of bread, fumes, and orange nasturtiums- am, still, solo- even the base of me being, unknown.

your face, not like LA where they're situated in no

E che volete che venga a fare? Per vedere l'elefante di piazza del Duomo? Voialtri vi siete fitto in capo che questa sia una città, e non volete capire che invece è un miserabile paesuccio ignorato nel resto del mondo. Donn'Isabella, dite voi: quando mai l'avete udito nominare, fuori?...»

La aurora de Nueva York tiene cuatro columnas de cieno y un huracán de negras palomas que chapotean las aguas podridas

But there is no oblivion, no dream: raw flesh. Kisses tie mouths in a tangle of new veins and those who are hurt will hurt without rest…" from "Sleepless City (Brooklyn Bridge Nocturne)

The two elements the traveler first captures in the big city are extra human architecture and furious rhythm. Geometry and anguish.

a Veracruz lo llaman el "Jardín de Aclimatación": si sobrevives en esa ciudad, sobrevives en cualquier lugar de México-.

Y donde está prohibido todo nada está. Todo es nada y nada es todo y todo pasa, señor, todo cambia, la ciudad, el país, el idioma.

crecimos juntos, nos corrompimos juntos, la vida nos echó a perder. La llamaban «la ciudad de la eterna primavera», y a mí «el niño Jesús»: el niño Jesús resultó un demonio, y su Medellín –con tanta fábrica, con tanto carro, con tanto ladrón respirando– un infierno en verano.