Is there such a place? What must it be like? For what purpose must so many people have striven to construct so many buildings? Do the red roofs stretch to the horizon? Are the rolling hills covered with the rich fumes of industry? Are there roads of varying lengths and widths? Who dwells here and how must they occupy their nights? Are the actions of the residents coordinated with the sounds of the industrial hammers? Is the peace shattered by the screams of children from the parks and gardens? Do the more serious minded of the residents congregate in meeting halls to hear the thoughts of famous philosophers? Do the young hang on every word of their professors? Do the residents lean forward to more closely watch the lips of their neighbours? Is there a need here to respect the opinions of enemies? During street battles, are rocks hurled through the dust? Do the lynching mobs bear their victims before them to the gallows tree? Do workers plead for the lives of their friends? Is mercy ever shown with the same spontaneity as anger?