Quotes About City

If this city is to die, it won't be because of the men on the hills, it will be because of the people in the valley. When they're content to live with death, to become what the men on the hills want them to be, then Sarajevo will die.

The men on the hills told her that she hated them, and they did everything they could to make it true. She did not fight very hard. It was an easy thing to do. She wonders whether it would have been possible to behave any differently. She hopes it is. She hopes that, somewhere in the city, there are people who are resisting the temptation to turn these men into devils, to say that all men are like them, to oppose their very existence the way they always said the people of Sarajevo did.

I will not live in a city where dead bodies lie abandoned in the streets, and you will not tell the world I do.

When the world thought of Sarajevo, it was as a place of murder. It isn't clear to him how the world will think of the city now that thousands have been murdered. He suspects that what the world wants most is not to think of it all.

You have got to be good in that town if you want to beat the crowd.' So says young John on his first sight of New York City. THE CROWD (1928)

No city is conquered unless its people have offended the gods; for the conquerors to kill or enslave the inhabitants is pleasing to the gods. The people of Roma have always known this. The humiliation of our enemies is one of the ways by which we please the gods, and by pleasing the gods, we continue to prosper.

The Crown of the North still rules all commerce and politics, but it can't remotely claim to be the City of Splendors. This city needs heroes to bring back its life and luster. But gods know if I have it in me to be one.

When I get real bored, I like to drive downtown and get a great parking spot, then sit in my car and count how many people ask me if I'm leaving.

The city was a puzzle box built of symbols, a confusion of old and new, armored cars and donkeys in the streets, Bedouins and bankers. The Turks and Haredim, the showy Greek and Russian processions -- everyone seemed to be in costume, reenacting the miraculous past.

I see a city in the desert lies The vanity of an ancient king But the city lies in broken pieces While the wind howls and the vultures sing

You should know by now that this time of year is not one when we pale-skinned interlopers can walk at ease in the treacherous labyrinth of this witch of cities.

After what seemed an hour of disorienting scrabbling, I managed to claw my way through the leaping bodies and stumbled into the city beyond them.

The cry of the bells had condensed even further until it sounded like a single, crazed voice clanging out over the city.

Magrast, so huge and busy, had un-nerved Khaster and Valraven at first. They were used to the wild, free air of Caradore. Here they found enclosed spaces, areas of decay and poverty, where the air was almost unbearable. High walls enclosed them, and a forest of bleak turrets, immense domes, elegant spires.

Shem shivered in the clammy heat of the city. It felt as if the picture had crossed time as well as distance to reach him.

The whole city made his skin itch with discomfort, as if conspiracies were incubating in every dark corner. Whispers would sometimes seem to follow him down twisting alley that were like canyons between the high narrow buildings. Valraven was being led into this labyrinth. A monster was waiting for him.

He patrolled the city to keep it alive, even though he lacked the power to wake it.

The city hummed and rustled with secret life.

Taparak is a city of silicon and stone, shaped as if by an artist's hands. It was my home too, in the beginning.

My city could not help but be conducive to creative thought. Who knows what new myths might spring from the juxtaposition of so many fabulous designs?

For several minutes, I leaned upon the rail, gazing out across the city of Sacramente, breathing in its riot of scents; the hot flesh-smell beneath me, the flower haze above.

The performance is the life of the city, our life, and beyond all considerations of personal life.

My guardian-pursuer came to me then, as I walked alone in the black and white city of ruins. She was at my side, sensed before I could actually see her.

Everything that he saw and heard about the city filled him with distaste, yet Valraven seemed to embrace it.