New York City Quotes
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New York City Quote of the day
Give me such shows--give me the streets of Manhattan!
This is the city, and I am one of the citizens/Whatever interests the rest interests me
There is no question that there is an unseen world. The problem is, how far is it from midtown and how late is it open?
The city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time, in its first wild promise of all the mystery and the beauty in the world.
New York was a city where you could be frozen to death in the midst of a busy street and nobody would notice.
When you leave New York, you are astonished at how clean the rest of the world is. Clean is not enough.
I carry the place around the world in my heart but sometimes I try to shake it off in my dreams
There is more sophistication and less sense in New York than anywhere else on the globe.
New York is a different country. Maybe it ought to have a separate government. Everybody thinks differently, they just don't know what the hell the rest of the United States is.
In Boston they ask, how much does he know? In New York, how much is he worth? In Philadelphia, who were his parents?
Once you have lived in New York and made it your home, no place else is good enough
New York, the nation's thyroid gland.
New York had all the iridescence of the beginning of the world.
New York, like London, seems to be a cloacina [toilet] of all the depravities of human nature.
New York is a sucked orange.
Skill is successfully walking a tightrope between the twin towers of New York's World Trade Center. Intelligence is not trying.
New York makes one think of the collapse of civilization, about Sodom and Gomorrah, the end of the world. The end wouldn't come as a surprise here. Many people already bank on it.
Well, little old Noisyville-on-the Subway is good enough for me.
New York is the place where everyone will stop a championship fight to look at an usher giving a drunk the bum's rush.
My one thought is to get out of New York, to experience something genuinely American.
Coming to New York from the muted mistiness of London, as I regularly do, is like travelling from a monochrome antique shop to a technicolor bazaar.
New York is a granite beehive, where people jostle and whir like molecules in an overheated jar. Houston is six suburbs in search of a center.
No matter how tired I was, I always felt more awake when I walked.
I heaved into being, came out of the stone, the bricks, and other elements, and took form. (Dark City Lights)
My new life was unstable and unsure, but each new day was shot through with new possibility.
Man with goatee. Man who looked like a Beatle. All the Beatles at once. Woman wearing newspaper hat. I'd grown used to how weird New Yorkers were, and I could fit them into types.
New York City is the place where people come to invent, reinvent, or find the room they need to be who they wish to be.
I loved the abandoned subway stations, rushing past the darkened platforms, the sprawl of graffiti like old letters. Letters left by ghosts.
The city was radiant and I felt untouchable.
How did pretty little Anna go from Westchester suburb brat to New York hooker? Now that’s a story.
I never wrote him. I never saw him again. He was just gone, this dear, dear man, this friend of my soul in the hospital so long ago, disappeared. This is a New York story too.
I said, "It really didn't feel like a choice. Where else is there to go?
In New York, everything was permissible. No one cared what you wore, how you looked. Only you cared about those things. And if they didn’t worry you, then they didn’t matter.
They pine for the hip, frosty girlfriend they abandoned for a pleasant if unexciting marriage to her sunnier, less mentally present sister coast.
We took our food order to go, in greasy paper bags, and walked across Columbus Circle to Central Park. He helped me up the giant prehistoric-looking rock just off the playground.
You are a New Yorker when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now.
The city was a hive from this height, the people and the yellow cabs moving about in the street below like pre-programmed insects. (Dark City Lights)
This was the year he rode the subway to the ends of the city, two hundred miles of track.
Maybe we become New Yorkers the day we realize that New York will go on without us.
New York City does not hold our former selves against us. Perhaps we can extend the same courtesy.
New York is such an awful place. No wonder it's so crowded. No wonder it's almost impossible to leave.
Perhaps all love stories no matter how varied are essentially the same.
Cherish your old apartments and pause for a moment when you pass them. Pay tribute, for they are the caretakers for your reinventions.
And although he recognized that tenderness was not the same as passion, and certainly not equivalent to love, for now it seemed to him a suitable substitute.
It can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck. No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.
I would stay in New York, I told him, just six months, and I could see the Brooklyn Bridge from my window. As it turned out the bridge was the Triborough, and I stayed eight years.
Was she happy? She thought – yes, reasonably so. Then again, what was happiness but the vast terrain between ecstasy and agony? Was this too small an ambition?
The city knows you better than any living person because it has seen you when you are alone.
I'm here because I was born here and thus ruined for anywhere else, but I don't know about you.
It dawned on me that no person is as poetically homesick as someone who has come to New York for the first time and glimpsed a small vestige of her home state.