There is no logic that can be superimposed on the city; people make it, and it is to them, not buildings, that we must fit our plans.

Cities have the capability of providing something for everybody, only because, and only when, they are created by everybody.

Streets and their sidewalks-the main public places of a city-are its most vital organs.

Designing a dream city is easy; rebuilding a living one takes imagination.

Intricate minglings of different uses in cities are not a form of chaos. On the contrary, they represent a complex and highly developed form of order.

While you are looking, you might as well also listen, linger and think about what you see.

The ballet of the good city sidewalk never repeats itself from place to place, and in any one place is always replete with new improvisations.

This is something everyone knows: A well-used city street is apt to be a safe street. A deserted city street is apt to be unsafe.

People must take a modicum of public responsibility for each other even if they have no ties to each other.

This is what a city is, bits and pieces that supplement each other and support each other.

Lowly, unpurposeful and random as they may appear, sidewalk contacts are the small change from which a city's wealth of public life may grow.

To struggle against the weight of sleep as reality eclipses the moon of your dreams is the purest sign of true love.

No matter how busy you may think you are, you must find time for reading, or surrender yourself to self-chosen ignorance.

To live on the edge requires an exceptional ability to balance.

Nobility is a graceful ornament to the civil order. It is the Corinthian capital of polished society.

Athens was a great experience and I'll always be able to look back on it and say I achieved my ultimate goal in gymnastics.

I build a painting by putting little marks together-some look like hot dogs, some like doughnuts.

I have dashed across continents and oceans as a fugitive and have matched my wits with the police and secret agents seeking to deprive me of one of the greatest blessings man can have-liberty.

The powers of the Soul are commensurate with its needs.

The ones we choose to love become our anchorwhen the hawser of the blood-tie's hacked, or frays.

You can get used to anything - haven't I already said that? Isn't that what all survivors say?