"[May 17, 1939] Next day, we took a taxi into Hollywood. I was amazed at the size of the city, and at its lack of shape. There seemed no reason why it should ever stop. Miles and miles of little houses, wooden or stucco, under a technicolor sky. Miles of little gardens, crowded with blossoms and flowering bushes; the architecture is dominated by the vegetation. A city without privacy, where neighbors share each other's lawns and look into each other's bedrooms. The whole place like a world's fair, quite new and already partly in ruins. The only permanent buildings are the schools and churches. On the hill, giant letters spell "Hollywoodland", but this is only another advertisement. It is silly to say that Hollywood, or any other city, is "unreal". But what the arriving traveler first sees are merely advertisements for a city which doesn’t exist."