Misery, mutilation, destruction, terror, starvation and death characterize the process of war and form a principal part of the product.

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.

The cycle of the machine is now coming to an end. Man has learned much in the hard discipline and the shrewd, unflinching grasp of practical possibilities that the machine has provided in the last three centuries: but we can no more continue to live in the world of the machine than we could live successfully on the barren surface of the moon.

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.

In our entrancement with the motorcar, we have forgotten how much more efficient and how much more flexible the footwalker is.

To curb the machine and limit art to handicraft is a denial of opportunity.

Forget the damned motor car and build the cities for lovers and friends.