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

There is a city in which you find everything you desire—handsome people, pleasures, ornaments of every kind—all that the natural person craves. However, you cannot find a single wise person there.

The first requisite to happiness is that a man be born in a famous city.

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.

Towns oftener swamp one than carry one out onto the big ocean of life.

Does anybody really want to attend to cities other than to flee, fleece, privatize, butcher, or decimate them?

What is the city but the people?

Today’s city is the most vulnerable social structure ever conceived by man.

One need merely visit the marketplace and the graveyard to determine whether a city is in both physical and metaphysical order.

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

Great cities must ever be centers of light and darkness, the home of the best and the worst of our race, holding within themselves the highest talent for good and evil.

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

If the present be compared with the remote past, it is easily seen that in all cities and in all peoples there are the same desires and the same passions as there always were.