Browsing Topic Best City Streets Quotes

Walking uplifts the spirit. Breathe out the poisons of tension, stress, and worry; breathe in the power of God. Send forth little silent prayers of goodwill toward those you meet. Walk with a sense of being a part of a vast universe. Consider the thousands of miles of earth beneath your feet; think of the limitless expanse of space above your head. Walk in awe, wonder, and humility. Walk at all times of day. In the early morning when the world is just waking up. Late at night under the stars. Along a busy city street at noontime.

The challenge for me has first been to see things as they are, whether a portrait, a city street, or a bouncing ball. In a word, I have tried to be objective. What I mean by objectivity is not the objectivity of a machine, but of a sensible human being with the mystery of personal selection at the heart of it. The second challenge has been to impose order onto the things seen and to supply the visual context and the intellectual framework – that to me is the art of photography.

Our children need to be able to see us take a stand for a value and against injustices, be those values and injustices in the family room, the boardroom, the classroom, or on the city streets.

There is a horrifying loneliness at work in this time. No, listen to me. We lived six and seven to a room in those days, when I was still among the living. The city streets were seas of humanity; and now in these high buildings dim-witted souls hover in luxurious privacy, gazing through the television window at a faraway world of kissing and touching. It is bound to produce some great fund of common knowledge, some new level of human awareness, a curious skepticism, to be so alone.

Girls took to dressing like boys, and though women had obtained the vote, we had swiftly moved on to pursuing flashier freedoms: necking in cars and smoking cigarettes and walking down city streets in flesh colored stockings.

We should teach general ethics to both men and women, but sexual relationships themselves must not be policed. Sex, like the city streets, would be risk-free only in totalitarian regimes.

My heart has become as hard as a city street, the horses trample upon it, it sings like iron, all day long and all night long they beat, they ring like the hooves of time.

Assault weapons pose a grave threat to all Americans, but most especially to law enforcement officers on our city streets.

I can’t stop being in parades. I just love dancing on floats that move really slowly on the city streets in the early morning.

The idea (for the painting ‘Room in New York’, 1932, ed.) had been in my mind a long time before I painted it. It was suggested by glimpses of lighted interiors seen as I walked along city streets at night, probably near the district where I live (Washington Square, New York, fh) although it’s no particular street or house, but is really a synthesis of many impressions.

Willy DeVille knows the truth of a city street and the courage in a ghetto love song. And the harsh reality in his voice and phrasing is yesterday, today, and tomorrow – timeless in the same way that loneliness, no money, and troubles find each other and never quit for a minute.

You can be alone too in the city streets, among the crowds. We are all alone.

I love just seeing shots of New York inside of a fictional movie that are not controlled. I do not like shots with extras, I have to say. I don’t mind extras in other scenes, but I love New York City streets just as they look. I don’t even care if someone looks at the camera. It doesn’t bother me.

I have walked with people whose eyes are full of light but who see nothing in sea or sky, nothing in city streets, nothing in books. It were far better to sail forever in the night of blindness with sense, and feeling, and mind, than to be content with the mere act of seeing. The only lightless dark is the night of darkness in ignorance and insensibility.

They were playing old Bob Dylan, more than perfect for narrow Village streets close to Christmas and the snow whirling down in big feathery flakes, the kind of winter where you want to be walking down a city street with your arm around a girl like on the old record cover.

The morrow was a bright September morn; The earth was beautiful as if newborn; There was nameless splendor everywhere, That wild exhilaration in the air, Which makes the passers in the city street Congratulate each other as they meet.

Great books are written for Christianity much oftener than great deeds are done for it. City libraries tell us of the reign of Jesus Christ but city streets tell us of the reign of Satan.

Today barbarism has taken over many city streets, or people fear it has, which comes to much the same thing in the end.

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.

On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street,The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet,With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the seaAnd-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.

In the holy solipsism of the young Now I can’t walk thru a city street w/out eying each single pedestrian. I feel thier vibe thru my skin, the hair on my neck — it rises.

There were people everywhere on the city street, but the stranger could not have been more alone if it were empty.

Chasing a burning girl down a city street is a lot harder than it sounds. Civilians tend to stop and stare and this turns them into human bowling pins. Slow whiny bowling pins.

It would be great to take one city street and turn it into a pedestrian corridor and see what kind of effect it has on the businesses in that area – It’s the future I think.

When I grew up in Flatbush, ‘we played football, stickball and baseball all the time, right out there on the city streets. Football was my favorite.

It doesn’t matter what you’re trying to accomplish. It’s all a matter of discipline. I was determined to discover what life held for me beyond the inner-city streets.

A Song of the good green grass! A song no more of the city streets; A song of farms – a song of the soil of fields. A song with the smell of sun-dried hay, where the nimble pitchers handle the pitch-fork; A song tasting of new wheat, and of fresh-husk’d maize.

Walking through the city streets… Is it by mistake or design?

As a child I thought it was very boring when I had to sit with [my mother] on the city streets, but the time sank deep and surfaced later.

It doesn’t have to be the Grand Canyon, it could be a city street, it could be the face of another human being – Everything is full of wonder.

These New York City streets get colder, I shoulder every burden every disadvantage I’ve learned to manage. I don’t have a gun to brandish. I walk these streets famished.