Quotes About City

Anne, commenting on city life] I think I would probably come to the conclusion that I'd like it for a while... but in the end, I'd still prefer the sound of the wind in the firs across the brook more than the tinkling of crystal.

Slowly the banners of the sunset city gave up their crimson and gold; slowly the conqueror's pageant faded out. Twilight crept over the valley and the little group grew silent.

From the bluffs east of the city, Gladstone, Montana looks as though it could have been laid out by a shotgun blast, the commercial and residential districts a tight cluster in the center and then the buckshot dispersing in the looser pattern of outlying houses and businesses owned by those Montanans for whom space is a stronger article of faith than neighborliness.

Paris was a good place to fight your demons.

Kansas City Sunday, August 22, 1915 I'm going to find everyone kind and all the help I need, as usual.

Twenty-three stories up and all I could see out the windows was grey smog. They could call it the City of the Angels if they wanted to, but if there were angels out there, they had to be flying blind.

I've called for backup, Ramirez said. Great. It's been a long time since I visited a Master of the City with the police. How do you usually do it? Ramirez asked. Carefully, I said. Edward turned his head away and coughed. I think he was trying not to laugh, but you can never tell with Edward. Maybe he just had a tickle in his throat.

And the boss isn't . . ." He waggled his hands back and forth. "Ya know, mean." I nodded. I did know. I could bitch and complain about Jean-Claude all I wanted, but compared to most Masters of the City, he was a pussycat. A big, dangerous, carnivorous pussycat, but still, it was an improvement.

Kiss Asher for me when he shows up tonight." "He will not be coming tonight. They have closed all the airports and roads into the city. The National Guard is being mobilized." "One little zombie apocalypse and they call out the big guns," I said.

City of Gold. City of Water. City of Faiths. Quien no ha visto Sevilla, runs a saying, no ha visto maravilla .

Like most blacks in Philadelphia, Eliza was free. She said Philadelphia was the best city for freed slaves or freeborn Africans.

I felt once again the unease of arriving at night in an unknown city--that faint sour panic which seems to cling to a place until one has found oneself a bed.

In London, Man is the most secret animal on earth.

Interpreting the Bible without training is a bit like finding a specific address in a foreign city with neither map nor knowledge of the language. You might stumble upon the right answer, but in the meantime you've put yourself at the mercy of every ignoramus in town, with no way of telling the savant from the fool.

There are eight million stories in the naked city, he intoned. You remember that program? Used to be on television some years back. I remember. They had that line at the end of every show. 'There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them.' I remember it. Eight million stories, he said. You know what you got in this city, this fucked-up toilet of a naked fucking city? You know what you got? You got eight million ways to die.

The New Your energy goes beyond anything you'll find anywhere else. It's too much for some people and it grinds them down, but it lifts up and animates the rest of us.

You think he just died of natural causes?" "This is New York. Murder's a natural cause in this city.

In her, as an Alexandrian, licence was in a curious way a form of self-abnegation, a travesty of freedom; and if I saw her as an exemplar of the city it was not of Alexandria, or Plotinus that I was forced to think, but of the sad thirtieth child of Valentinus who fell, 'not like Lucifer by rebelling against God, but by desiring too ardently to be united to him'.*

Slowly the bluish spring moon climbs the houses, sliding up the minarets into the clicking palm-trees, and with it the city seems to uncurl like some hibernating animal dug out of its winter earth, to stretch and begin to drink in the music of the three-day festival.

and all at once it seemed that past and present had joined again without any divisions in it, and that all my memories and impressions had ordered themselves into one complete pattern whose metaphor was always the shining city of the disinherited — a city now trying softly to spread the sticky prismatic wings of a new-born dragonfly on the night.

am recalling now how during that last spring (forever) we walked together at full moon, overcome by the soft dazed air of the city, the quiet ablutions of water and moonlight that polished it like a great casket. An aerial lunacy among the deserted trees of the dark squares, and the long dusty roads reaching away from midnight to midnight, bluer than oxygen.

If you think of yourself as a sleeping city for example… what? You can sit quiet and hear the processes going on, going about their business; volition, desire, will, cognition, passion, conation.

It was already dark and the city was drifting like a bed of seaweed towards the lighted cafés of the upper town.

It's a sad fact of modern life that if you drive long enough, sooner or later you must leave London behind.