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Either these [unsaved] people are to be evangelized, or the leaven of communism and infidelity will assume such enormous proportions that it will break you in a reign of terror such as this country has never known. (Piven Jeremy)
The city is not a concrete jungle. It is a human zoo. (Piven Jeremy)
The city is a fact in nature, like a cave, a run of mackerel or an ant-heap. But it is also a conscious work of art, and it holds within its communal framework many simpler and more personal forms of art. Mind takes form in the city; and in turn, urban forms condition mind. (Piven Jeremy)
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. (Piven Jeremy)
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An artist has no home in Europe except in Paris. (Piven Jeremy)
There is no solitude in the world like that of the big city. (Piven Jeremy)
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. (Piven Jeremy)
All great art is born of the metropolis. (Piven Jeremy)
A city is a large community where people are lonesome together. (Piven Jeremy)
Who goes to Rome a beast returns a beast. (Piven Jeremy)
Just as language has no longer anything in common with the thing it names, so the movements of most of the people who live in cities have lost their connection with the earth; they hang, as it were, in the air, hover in all directions, and find no place where they can settle. (Piven Jeremy)
I look upon those pitiful concretions of lime and clay which spring up, in mildewed forwardness, out of the kneaded fields about our capital... not merely with the careless disgust of an offended eye, not merely with sorrow for a desecrated landscape, but with a painful foreboding that the roots of our national greatness must be deeply cankered when they are thus loosely struck in their native ground. The crowded tenements of a struggling and restless population differ only from the tents of the Arab or the Gipsy by their less healthy openness to the air of heaven, and less happy choice of their spot of earth; by their sacrifice of liberty without the gain of rest, and of stability without the luxury of change. (Piven Jeremy)
Boston is a moral and intellectual nursery always busy applying first principals to trifles. (Piven Jeremy)
New York is not Mecca. It just smells like it. (Piven Jeremy)
In place of a world, there is a city, a point, in which the whole life of broad regions is collecting while the rest dries up. In place of a type-true people, born of and grown on the soil, there is a new sort of nomad, cohering unstably in fluid masses, the parasitical city dweller, traditionless, utterly matter-of-fact, religionless, clever, unfruitful, deeply contemptuous of the countryman and especially that highest form of countryman, the country gentleman. (Piven Jeremy)
All things atrocious and shameless flock from all parts to Rome. (Piven Jeremy)
City life is millions of people being lonesome together. (Piven Jeremy)
The great city is that which has the greatest man or woman: if it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world. (Piven Jeremy)
A great city is that which has the greatest men and women. (Piven Jeremy)
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. (Piven Jeremy)
The cities of America are inexpressibly tedious. The Bostonians take their learning too sadly; culture with them is an accomplishment rather than an atmosphere; their Hub, as they call it, is the paradise of prigs. Chicago is a sort of monster-shop, full of bustles and bores. Political life at Washington is like political life in a suburban vestry. Baltimore is amusing for a week, but Philadelphia is dreadfully provincial; and though one can dine in New York one could not dwell there. (Piven Jeremy)
One belongs to New York instantly. One belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years. (Piven Jeremy)
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. (Piven Jeremy)
The screech and mechanical uproar of the big city turns the citified head, 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. (Piven Jeremy)
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. (Piven Jeremy)
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