I like to see a man proud of the place in which he lives. I like to see a man live so that his place will be proud of him.

There was once a town in the heart of America where all life seemed to live in harmony with its surroundings.

Once upon a time amidst the mountains and hills and falling streams of a fair land there was a town or thorp in a certain valley.

wondering what sort of person would live in a place like this,

"I said: "Dead end - quiet, restful, like your town. I like a town like this." Marlowe (talking about Olympia) in a short story called Goldfish."

In the loveliest town of all where the houses were white and high and the elm trees were green and higher than the houses where the front yards were wide and pleasant and the back yards were bushy and worth finding out about, where the streets sloped down to the stream and the stream flowed quietly under the bridge, where the lawns ended in orchards and the orchards ended in fields and the fields ended in pastures and the pastures climbed the hill and disappeared over the top toward the wonderful wide sky, in this loveliest of all towns Stuart stopped to get a drink of sarsaparilla.

It is impossible that a town will not play a part in your life, it does not even make much difference whether you have more good or bad things to say of it, it draws your mind to it, by a mental law of gravitation.

he wanted people to like his mind again-after awhile it might be such a nice place in which to live.

He was under the impression that he belonged wherever there was something interesting to see.

On the main street of one village she passed a vast house, pillared and walled, with shutters over the windows and a pair of stone lions guarding the steps, and she thought that perhaps she might live there, dusting the lions each morning and patting their heads good night.

and had they been aware of the ancient custom of the Greeks, they would have erected a trophy on the spot.

One of the pleasant things about small town life is that everyone, whether rich or poor, liked or disliked, has some kind of a role and place in the community. I never felt that living in a city — as I once did for a couple of years.

I am always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods.

He knew this place, where once in sport/The flood had played and waves had bubbled,/Defiant in their fierce despair;/He knew these lions, and this square,/And him whose bronze head dominated/The darkness from its lofty height –/Whose fateful head will had on this site/Decreed a city be created.