Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night t — Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
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Do you remember the long orphanage of the train stationsWe crossed cities that turn-tabled all dayAnd vomited at night the sunshine of the day ("The Voyager")

— Pierre Albert-Birot, The Cubist Poets in Paris: An Anthology
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More “Cities” Quotes

The city blew the windows of my brain wide open. But being in a place so bright, fast and brilliant made you vertiginous — Hanif Kureishi, The Buddha of Suburbia
And except on a certain kind of winter evening—six-thirty in the Seventies, say, already dark and bitter with a wind off — Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem
We no longer produce laborers, we would rather pray to God to send laborers to come and build our cities — Sunday Adelaja
Different cities visit us daily, they exist in the clouds. — Antonia Perdu
Legend has it that while drinking wine in a boat on the river, [8th century Chinese poet Li Po] tried to grab the moon's — Matthew White, Atrocities: The 100 Deadliest Episodes in Human History
In his mind, the city, as it awoke from its slumber, seemed to be built on quicksand. The stability was illusory. — Liu Cixin, The Three-Body Problem
I have been both a ghost and haunted in the city I love. — Rebecca Solnit
Or a ghost is a knot in the otherwise smooth flow of time, an electrical storm in a jewelry box, grief perfectly aligned — Cole Swensen
If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model and the San Fernando Valley is her teenybopper sister, then New York — Francesca Lia Block, I Was a Teenage Fairy
She looks after him, feeling a wave of longing, loneliness. Not sexual particularly but to do with the nature of cities, — William Gibson, Pattern Recognition
For luck you carried a horse chestnut and a rabbit’s foot in your right pocket. The fur had been worn off the rabbit’s f — Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
The cities make ferocious men because they may corrupt man. The mountain, the sea, the forest, make savage men; they dev — Victor Hugo, Les Misérables