Often an entire city has suffered because of an evil man.

There is no solitude in the world like that of the big city.

No city should be too large for a man to walk out of in a morning.

The more men are massed together, the more corrupt they become. Disease and vice are the sure results of overcrowded cities.

Any city, however small, is in fact divided into two, one the city of the poor, the other of the rich; these are at war with one another.

Divine nature gave the fields; human art built the cities.

The screech and mechanical uproar of the big city turns the citified heads, fills citified ears—as the song of birds, wind in the trees, animal cries, or as the voices and songs of his loved ones once filled his heart. He is sidewalk happy.

We must consider that we shall be a city upon a hill. The eyes of all people are upon us, so that if we deal falsely with our God in this work we have undertaken, and so cause Him to withdraw His present help from us, we shall be made a story and a byword through the world.

I even gave up, for a while, stopping by the window of the room to look out at the lights and deep, illuminated streets. That’s a form of dying, that losing contact with the city like that.

A hick town is one where there is no place to go where you shouldn’t go.

My ideas are clear. My orders are precise. Within five years, Rome must appear marvelous to all the people of the world—vast, orderly, powerful, as in the time of the empire of Augustus.

A large city cannot be experientially known; its life is too manifold for any individual to be able to participate in it.

By the blessing of the upright the city is exalted, but it is overthrown by the mouth of the wicked.