Quotes About City

Whereas he had originally suggested that the good city will come into being if the philosophers become kings, he finally suggests that the good city will come into being if, when the philosophers have become kings, they expel everyone older than ten from the city, i.e., separate the children completely from their parents and their parents' ways and bring them up in the entirely novel ways of the good city.

The Republic is based on the assumption that there is a strict parallelism between the city and the soul.

Monarchy by itself stands for the absolute rule of the wise man or of the master; democracy stands for freedom. The right mixture is that of wisdom and freedom, of wisdom and consent, of the rule of wise laws framed by a wise legislator and administered by the best members of the city and of the rule of the common people.

The justice of those who are not wise appears in a different light when justice in the city is being considered, on the one hand, and justice in the soul on the other. This fact shows that the parallelism between the city and the soul is defective. This parallelism requires that, just as in the city the warriors occupy a higher rank than the money-makers, so in the soul spiritedness occupy a higher rank than desire.

W]ithout the chance presence of the Athenian stranger in Crete there would be no prospect of wise legislation for the new city. This makes us understand the stranger's assertion that not human beings but chance legislates: most laws are as it were dictated by calamities.

The owners who had arrived at the bungalow were very kind people, and all the more so now that they were far from the city breathing pure air, seeing around them everything green, and blue and harmless. The sunlight went into them in warmth, and came out again in laughter and goodwill towards all things living.

Books, I knew then and now, give body to our ideas and imaginations, make them flesh in the world; a bookstore is the city where our fleshed-out inner selves reside.

We are much more likely to be drawn to a messy bookstore than a neat one because the mess signifies vitality. We are not drawn to a bookstore because of tasteful, Finnish shelves in gunmetal gray mesh, each one displaying three carefully chosen, color-coordinated covers. Clutter -- orderly clutter, if possible -- is what we expect. Like a city. It's not quite a city unless there's more than enough.

HEARING A FLUTE ON A SPRING NIGHT IN LUOYANG From whose home secretly flies the sound of a jade flute? It's lost amid the spring wind which fills Luoyang city. In the middle of this nocturne I remember the snapped willow, What person would not start to think of home!

Every city is a ghost. New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel bean, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting. Sometimes you can catch a glimpse of these former incarnations in the awkward angle of a street or filigreed gate, an old oak door peeking out from a new facade, the plaque commemorating the spot that was once a battleground, which became a saloon and is now a park.

There in the city's steam-and-smoke-smudged harbor is the most extraordinary sight of all: a great copper-clad lady with a torch in one hand and a book in the other. It is not a statesman or a god or a war hero who welcomes us to this new world. It is but an ordinary woman lighting the way- a lady offering us the liberty to pursue our dreams if we've the courage to begin.

For dreams, too, are ghosts, desires chased in sleep, gone by morning. The longing of dreams draws the dead, and this city holds many dreams.

Every city is a ghost. New buildings rise upon the bones of the old so that each shiny steel beam, each tower of brick carries within it the memories of what has gone before, an architectural haunting.

They're too tired for bathing, but they're not too tired for dreams. For dreams, too, are ghosts, desires chased in sleep, gone by morning. The longing of dreams draws the dead, and the city hall to many dreams.

Pompeya contaba con vino, cereales, lana, metalistería, aceite de oliva, un ambiente de pujante prosperidad y diez atalayas estratégicas empotradas en la muralla de la ciudad. —¡Es un lugar que se propone durar!— exclamé y fue uno de mis comentarios más sagaces.

In the way Boston works, a random street has appeared ahead, forking a right diagonal, not to be confused with the three other diagonals flaring out around it.

away from the window and the night descending upon Bakersville's streets.

We either live or die based on how we live in cities, and our society is either going to be great or not based on how we perform as creatures of the city.

I feel like I'm adapting to society. I went feral a little bit. I found that when I would get back to the city, if there was any second-guessing about stuff, it would happen.

New York is my Lourdes, where I go for spiritual refreshment... a place where you're least likely to be bitten by a wild goat.

There is an atmosphere of spiritual effort here. No other city is quite like it. I wake early, often at 5 o'clock, and start writing at once.

Rugby is a good occasion for keeping thirty bullies far from the center of the city.

A city's only ever three hot meals away from anarchy.

Since at the very start of the [ Epic of Gilgamesh ], the purpose of the encounter of the wild man with the civilized king was to restore justice to the city, the poem has, after all, a happy ending.