The Great City Is The Best Organ

Neither Democracy Nor Effective Representation Is Possible Until Each Participant In The Group...devotes A Measurable Part Of His Life To Furthering Its Existence.

Without Fullness Of Experience, Length Of Days Is Nothing. When Fullness Of Life Has Been Achieved, Shortness Of Days Is Nothing. That Is Perhaps Why The Young Have Usually So Little Fear Of Death; They Live By Intensities That The Elderly Have Forgotten.

Iron And Coal Dominated Everywhere, From Grey To Black: The Black Boots, The Black Stove-pipe Hat, The Black Coach Or Carriage, The Black Iron Frame Of The Hearth, The Black Cooking Pots And Pans And Stoves. Was It A Mourning? Was It Protective Coloration? Was It Mere Depression Of The Senses? No Matter What The Original Color Of The Paleotechnic Milieu Might Be It Was Soon Reduced By Reason Of The Soot And Cinders That Accompanied Its Activities, To Its Characteristic Tones, Grey, Dirty-brown, Black.

We Have Lost Faith In The Formal Powers Of The Mind, Not, As Some Suppose, Because Our Universe Is Too Difficult To Grasp, But Because We Lack The Inner Principle Of Order.

Each Person Is A Temporary Focus Of Forces, Vitalities, And Values That Carry Back To An Immemorial Past And That Reach Forward Into An Unthinkable Future.