Though the latitudes rather uncertain, And the longitude also is vague, The persons I pity who know not the city, The beautiful city of Prague.
Oh, London is a man’s town, there’s power in the air And Paris is a woman’s town, with flowers in her hair; And it’s sweet to dream in Venice, and it’s great to study Rome; But when it comes to living there is no place like home… Oh, it’s home again, and home again, America […]
This city desert makes you feel so cold. It’s got so many people but it’s got no soul.
The thing generally raised on city land is taxes.
The streets are safe in Philadelphia, it’s only the people who make them unsafe.
A great city is that which has the greatest men and women.
We cannot afford merely to sit down and deplore the evils of city life as inevitable, when cities are constantly growing, both absolutely and relatively. We must set ourselves vigorously about the task of improving them; and this task is now well begun.
The cities of America are inexpressibly tedious. The Bostonians take their learning too sadly: culture with them is an accomplishment rather than an atmosphere; their “Hub,” as they call it, is the paradise of prigs. Chicago is a sort of monster-shop, full of bustle and bores. Political life at Washington is like political life in […]
There are dragons buried beneath our cities, primordial energies greater than the power of our bombs.
Broadway is a main artery of New York life – the hardened artery.