For much of the year I view London as a chaotic, jumbling hive of activity; cold, impersonal and anonymous. But there are times when the the rain ceases, the clouds evaporate and it reveals itself to be a pretty damn beautiful place. I’m always thinking about where I want to move to next, but on weekends like this I feel like I never want to be anywhere else! This weekend (in no particular order) I walked along Brick Lane, visited a student showcase of graduate photography, drank cider near Lancaster Gate, had a picnic consisting of cava, strawberries and jaffa cakes with Hard Rock Calling in the background, sunbathed by the Peter Pan Statue in Kensington Gardens, saw the sunset from Putney Bridge, hired Boris bikes and then still found time for three episodes of Mad Men!
I found a link via Gala Darling to a great blog post featuring Literary Love Letters to NYC, so I thought I’d hunt for some quotes where London was the muse.
“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.”
— Samuel Johnson
“I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as air — or as free as an income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will permit a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained.”
— Arthur Conan Doyle (A Study In Scarlet)
“Go where we may, rest where we will,
Eternal London haunts us still.”
— Thomas Moore
I disappear, but London would have none of it, and rushed her bayonets into the sky, pinioned her, constrained her to partnership in her revelry.”
— Virginia Woolf (Mrs. Dalloway)
Some more London-related blog posts:
• Thirty Essential London Novels
• London Literary Locations–Mrs Dalloway










