Works
- Kinesis and stasis; a study in the attitude of Stefan George and his circle to the musical arts (1962)
- The Sino-Soviet Conflict (1965) with Leo Labedz
- Toynbee on Toynbee: A Conversation between Arnold J. Toynbee and G. R. Urban (1974)
- Détente (1976)
- What is Eurocommunism? (1977) editor
- Eurocommunism: Its Roots and Future in Italy and Elsewhere (1978)
- Communist Reformation: Nationalism, Internationalism, and Change in the World Communist Movement (1979)
- Can the Soviet System Survive Reform?: Seven Colloquies About the State of Soviet Socialism Seventy Years After the Bolshevik Revolution (1989)
- End of Empire: The Demise of the Soviet Union (1992)
- Diplomacy and Disillusion at the Court of Margaret Thatcher: An Insider's View (1996)
- Radio Free Europe and the Pursuit of Democracy: My War Within the Cold War (1997)
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| Persondata | |
|---|---|
| Name | Urban, George |
| Alternative names | |
| Short description | Hungarian writer |
| Date of birth | 12 April 1921 |
| Place of birth | |
| Date of death | 3 October 1997 |
| Place of death | |
Read more about this topic: George Urban
Famous quotes containing the word works:
“You are always looking for already-felt emotions, just as you like to get an old pair of trousers back from the cleaners, which seem new when you don’t look too closely. Artists are cleaners, don’t let yourself be taken in by them. True modern works of art are made not by artists but quite simply by men.”
—Francis Picabia (1878–1953)
“The slightest living thing answers a deeper need than all the works of man because it is transitory. It has an evanescence of life, or growth, or change: it passes, as we do, from one stage to the another, from darkness to darkness, into a distance where we, too, vanish out of sight. A work of art is static; and its value and its weakness lie in being so: but the tuft of grass and the clouds above it belong to our own travelling brotherhood.”
—Freya Stark (b. 1893–1993)
“Now they express
All that’s content to wear a worn-out coat,
All actions done in patient hopelessness,
All that ignores the silences of death,
Thinking no further than the hand can hold,
All that grows old,
Yet works on uselessly with shortened breath.”
—Philip Larkin (1922–1986)