Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth, nor blest abode
But the hope, the burning hope, and the read more

Friends and loves we have none, nor wealth, nor blest abode
But the hope, the burning hope, and the road, the lonely road.
Not for us are content, and quiet, and peace of mind,
For we go seeking cities that we shall never find.

The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.

The city is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo.

In the busy haunts of men.

In the busy haunts of men.

I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.

I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.

What is the city but the people?

What is the city but the people?

No history much? Perhaps. Only this ominous
Dark beauty flowering under veils,
Trapped in the spectrum of read more

No history much? Perhaps. Only this ominous
Dark beauty flowering under veils,
Trapped in the spectrum of a dying style:
A village like an instinct left to rust,
Composed around the echo of a pistol-shot.

That is the way to lay the city flat,
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And read more

That is the way to lay the city flat,
To bring the roof to the foundation,
And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges,
In heaps and piles of ruin.

A rose-red city half as old as Time.

A rose-red city half as old as Time.

Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount
Zion, on the sides of the north, the read more

Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount
Zion, on the sides of the north, the city of the great King.