Las Vegas suggests that the thirst for places, for cities and gardens and wilderness, is unslaked, that people will still seek out the experience of wandering about in the open air to examine the architecture, the spectacles, and the stuff for sale, will still hanker after surprises and strangers. That the city as a whole is one of the most pedestrian-unfriendly places in the world suggests something of the problems to be faced, but that its attraction is a pedestrian oasis suggests the possibility of recovering the spaces in which walking is viable.

I walk wherever my errands take me.

It's all about a war of social impulses and beliefs that is as powerful in its way as a big hurricane.

Never to get lost is not to live, not to know how to get lost brings you to destruction.

People are actually very good at being communists in the sense that they instantly abandon capitalism, that they love these relationships of mutual aid, because the astonishing thing about disasters is that people are often weirdly joyous in them, because they've recovered a sense of agency, a sense of power, etc.

Violence always seems to me the worst form of tyranny. It deprives people of their rights, including the right to live.

There is no one as dangerous as he or she who has nothing to lose.