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London goes beyond any boundary or convention. It contains every wish or word ever spoken, every action or gesture ever made, every harsh or noble statement ever expressed. It is illimitable. It is Infinite London.
— London
London goes beyond any boundary or convention. It contains every wish or word ever spoken, every action or gesture ever made, every harsh or noble statement ever expressed. It is illimitable. It is Infinite London.
Ah! my poor dear child, the truth is, that in London it is always a sickly season. Nobody is healthy in London, nobody can be.
London is a bad habit one hates to lose.
As I came down the Highgate HillThe land of Eldorado.
I've been walking about London for the last thirty years, and I find something fresh in it every day.
London is a splendid place to live in for those who can get out of it.
A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping,On a fool's head—and there is London Town.
I don't know what London's coming to—the higher the buildings the lower the morals.
Cockney feetThe grace of London Town.
London is a modern Babylon.
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained.
London, thou art the flour of cities all!
London always reminds me of a brain. It is similarly convoluted and circuitous. A lot of cities, especially American ones like New York and Chicago, are laid out in straight lines. Like the circuits on computer chips, there are a lot of right angles in cities like this. But London is a glorious mess. It evolved from a score or so of distinct villages, that merged and meshed as their boundaries enlarged. As a result, London is a labyrinth, full of turnings and twistings just like a brain.
Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner,That I love London town.
London doesn't love the latent or the lurking, has neither time, nor taste, nor sense for anything less discernible than the red flag in front of the steam-roller. It wants cash over the counter and letters ten feet high.
By seeing London, I have seen as much of life as the world can show.
You find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, ; for there is in London all that life can afford.
Sir, if you wish to have a just notion of the magnitude of this city, you must not be satisfied with seeing its great streets and squares, but must survey the innumerable little lanes and courts. It is not in the showy evolutions of buildings, but in the multiplicity of human habitations which are crowded together, that the wonderful immensity of London consists.
You are now Yet in its depth what treasures!
You've got the temperament of a scholar, and you live on your own and write books. You don't have anything to do with civilization. You've been in London a few days and you can't wait to get back home. But how about the people who can't write books -- people there's no outlet for in this civilization? What about your new men who don't know what to do?
I love this great polluted place'Tis they that made the city strong
As I came down the Highgate Hill,The land of Eldorado.
London is the clearing-house of the world.
If the parks be "the lungs of London" we wonder what Greenwich Fair is—a periodical breaking out, we suppose—a sort of spring rash.
London is a roost for every bird.
London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.
He was born within the sound of Bow-bell.
London! the needy villain's general home,Sucks in the dregs of each corrupted state.
Then in town let me live, and in town let me dieOh give me the sweet shady side of Pall Mall.
The way was long and weary,What fortunes be within you, O Lights of London Town!
The lungs of London.
