A Man Of Courage Never Needs Weapons,

When Cities Were First Founded, An Old Egyptian Scribe Tells Us, The Mission Of The Founder Was To 'put Gods In Their Shrines.' The Task Of The Coming City Is Not Essentially Different: Its Mission Is To Put The Highest Concerns Of Man At The Center Of All His Activities.

In Its Revolt Against Congestion And Sordor, A Space-hungry Generation Has, I Fear, Developed Eyes That Are Bigger Than Its Stomach.

The Chief Function Of The City Is To Convert Power Into Form, Energy Into Culture, Dead Matter Into The Living Symbols Of Art, Biological Reproduction Into Social Creativity.

Nothing About His Life Is More Strange To [man] Or More Unaccountable In Purely Mundane Terms Than The Stirrings He Finds In Himself, Usually Fitful But Sometimes Overwhelming, To Look Beyond His Animal Existence And Not Be Fully Satisfied With Its Immediate Substance. He Lacks The Complacency Of The Other Animals: He Is Obsessed By Pride And Guilt, Pride At Being Something More Than A Mere Animal, Built At Falling Short Of The High Aims He Sets For Himself.

Geneva Has The Sleepy Tidiness Of A Man Who Combs His Hair While Yet In His Pyjamas.