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

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.

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

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.

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

Every city has a sex and an age which have nothing to do with demography. Rome is feminine. So is Odessa. London is a teenager, an urchin, and in this hasn’t changed since the time of Dickens. Paris, I believe, is a man in his twenties in love with an older woman.

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

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.

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

The life of the city never lets you go, nor do you ever want it to.

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

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.