2,160 Quotes About City

You know, sometimes I think this is just not it,” he said, his glasses flashing from the early night’s light. He turned toward me in a thoughtful pause.“You know what I mean, Tom?” he asked. “It’s just not.

The night embarks, or dark ages,Flocks returning to nests, congesting the city,Rush hours begin, honking and jamming,Few like us aren’t in hurry, waiting by the bus stop,Chatting over trivial episodes, perhaps making memories of lifelong,Evenings spent miles across, freedom, I could return at anytime,No one to ask, hardly any anticipation,I am home now, thus my phone rings, cozy wintry dewdrop.

they'd become unaccustomed to the brightness of their own city, and, faced with it now in all its intensity, they cupped their hands over their eyes as if staring into the sun.

The city of San Francisco engulfed their view through the front windshield. The dazzling light of the late morning sun transformed every glass and metal surface into a silvery mirage.

You alone in Europe are not ancient oh Christianity The most modern European is you Pope Pius X And you whom the windows observe shame keeps youFrom entering a church and confessing this morning You read the prospectuses the catalogues the billboards that sing aloud That's the poetry this morning and for the prose there are the newspapersThere are the 25 centime serials full of murder mysteries Portraits of great men and a thousand different headlines("Zone")

I, sometimes, fear that probably I'll just keep changing cities, and may be someday I'll also travel the world, but never find another soul who thinks exactly the way I do.

Living in this city, you developed a certain relationship with violence and news of violence: you expected it, dreaded it, and then when it happened, you worked hard to look away from it, because there was nothing you could do about it - not even grieve, because you knew that it would happen again and maybe in a way that was worse than before. Grieving is possible only when you know you have come to an end, when there is nothing more to follow. This city was full of bottled-up grief.

The whole city was richer because he was in it, and every street, and turn of a road held the possibility of his appearance.

That weekend the city blushed with a great heat wave but on Monday it rained, cooling the ache in the street’s burn.