And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.
City life is millions of people being lonesome together.
Cities, like cats, will reveal themselves at night.
The life of our city is rich in poetic and marvelous subjects. We are enveloped and steeped as though in an atmosphere of the marvelous; but we do not notice it.
All great art is born of the metropolis.
What an incredibly beautiful city at night Chicago is. Absolutely beautiful.
I have never felt salvation in nature. I love cities above all.
We are in danger of making our cities places where business goes on but where life, in its real sense, is lost.
A large city cannot be experientially known; its life is too manifold for any individual to be able to participate in it.
I dont think there is anything on earth more wonderful than those wistful incomplete friendships one makes now and then in an hour's talk. You never see the people again, but the lingering sense of their presence in the world is like the glow of an unseen city at night--makes you feel the teemingness of it all.
I love driving in the city at night.
Prepare for death, if here at night you roam, and sign your will before you sup from home.
This City now doth like a garment wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie Open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
As a remedy to life in society I would suggest the big city. Nowadays, it is the only desert within our means.
The catalogue of forms is endless: until every shape has found its city, new cities will continue to be born. When the forms exhaust their variety and come apart, the end of cities begins.
If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.
I always view my music like a city at night, like Atlanta. I view my music in lights. So Far Gone would be my experiences in Toronto at night.
Not to find one's way in a city may well be uninteresting and banal. It requires ignorance - nothing more. But to lose oneself in a city - as one loses oneself in a forest - that calls for a quite different schooling. Then, signboard and street names, passers-by, roofs, kiosks, or bars must speak to the wanderer like a cracking twig under his feet in the forest.
Cities give us collision. 'Tis said, London and New York take the nonsense out of a man.
Through this broad street, restless ever, ebbs and flows a human tide, wave on wave a living river; wealth and fashion side by side; Toiler, idler, slave and master, in the same quick current glide.
Cities at night, I feel, contain men who cry in their sleep and then say Nothing. It's nothing. Just sad dreams. Or something like that...Swing low in your weep ship, with your tear scans and sob probes, and you would mark them. Women--and they can be wives, lovers, gaunt muses, fat nurses, obsessions, devourers, exes, nemeses--will wake and turn to these men and ask, with female need-to-know, "What is it?" And the men will say, "Nothing. No it isn't anything really. Just sad dreams.
The chief function of the city is to convert power into form, energy into culture, dead matter into the living symbols of art, biological reproduction into social creativity.
The first thing that strikes a visitor to Paris is a taxi.
To look at the cross-section of any plan of a big city is to look at something like the section of a fibrous tumor.
Towns oftener swamp one than carry one out onto the big ocean of life.
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