London’s like one of the flash women at Frisco – fine to look at, cruel as the snow.

Joseph Hatton (1837-1907), Cruel London

So large is the Extent of London, Westminster and Southwark, with their Suburbs and Liberties, that no Coachman nor Porter knows every Place in them.

William I Stow (1696 – 1731), Remarks on London, 1722

London always reminds me of a brain. It is similarly convoluted and circuitous. A lot of cities, especially American ones like New York and Chicago, are laid out in straight lines. Like the circuits on computer chips, there are a lot of right angles in cities like this. But London is a glorious mess. It evolved from a score or so of distinct villages, that merged and meshed as their boundaries enlarged. As a result, London is a labyrinth, full of turnings and twistings just like a brain.

James Geary (b.1962), On London, All Aphorisms, All the Time

London is a huge shop, with a hotel on the upper storeys.

George Gissing (1857-1903) New Grub Street

Private courts, / Gloomy as coffins, and unsightly lanes / Thrilled by some female vendor’s scream, belike / The very shrillest of all London cries, / May then entangle our impatient steps; / Conducted through those labyrinths, unawares, / To privileged regions and inviolate, / Where from their airy lodges studious lawyers / Look out on waters, walks, and gardens green.

William Wordsworth (1779-1850), The Prelude