Saying good-bye to a city is harder than breaking up with a lover. The grief and regret are more piercing because they are more complex and unmixed, changing from corner to corner, with each passing vista, each shift of the light. Breaking up with a ...
Prime Minister: Hello, does Natalie live here? Harris Street little girl: No, she doesn't. Prime Minister: Oh, dear. Okay. Harris Street little girl: Are you singing carols? Prime Minister: Uh, no. No I'm not. Her friend: Please, sir, please? Her fri...
They were playing old Bob Dylan, more than perfect for narrow Village streets close to Christmas and the snow whirling down in big feathery flakes, the kind of winter where you want to be walking down a city street with your arm around a girl like on...
Forget Batman: when I really thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up, I wanted to be my dad.
Art in relation to life is nothing more than a glove turned inside out. It seems to have the same shapes and contours, but it can never be used for the same purpose. Art teaches nothing about life, just as life teaches us nothing about art.
I am the One, and I see all. But the blind man in Apartment 1-A is blind in many ways, as are all human beings, even those with functioning eyes. They are blind to their folly, to their ignorance, to their history, to the future that they will make f...
I guess it can’t be too often that two people can laugh and make love, too, make love because they are laughing, laugh because they’re making love. The love and the laughter come from the same place: but not many people go there
And again, the dark street. The dark, dark street. The women out shopping for the evening meal of course, and baby carriage and the silver bicycle were already painted out by the darkness; most of the commuters too were already in place in their fili...
Animals! the object of insatiable interest, examples of the riddle of life, created, as it were, to reveal the human being to man himself, displaying his richness and complexity in a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities, each of them brought to some ...
There is only one place to write and that is alone at a typewriter. The writer who has to go into the streets is a writer who does not know the streets. . . when you leave your typewriter you leave your machine gun and the rats come pouring through.
There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heav...
Though it had no wide reputation, all manner of people frequented 'The Midnight Bell.' This was in its nature, of course, since it is notorious that all manner of people frequent all manner of public-houses - which in this respect resemble railway st...
I grew up across the street from, you know, the Villarias, which was a great Mexican family there. In fact, there was three houses right across the street from me. So, day and night, I listened to Mexican music, and I'm sure, you know, my guitar play...
Establishing a 0.03 percent Wall Street speculation fee, similar to what we had from 1914-1966, would dampen the dangerous level of speculation and gambling on Wall Street, encourage the financial sector to invest in the productive economy and reduce...
Fat Mancho: The street is the only thing that matters. Court is for uptown people with suits, money, lawyers with three names. If you got cash you can buy court justice. But on the street, justice has no price. She's blind where the judge sits but sh...
Matt Buckner: What are you talkin' about, baseball is a girl's game? The Red Sox has a guy that pitches the ball over 90 miles per hour! Pete Dunham: Who cares? All that means is that he can have a wank faster than you.
Prime Minister: I'd like to go to Wandsworth; the dodgy end. PM's chauffeur, Terry: Very good, sir. [they drive to Wandsworth] PM's chauffeur, Terry: Harris Street. What number, sir? Prime Minister: Oh, God. It's the longest street in the world, and ...
Mark Hanna: OK, first rule of Wall Street - Nobody - and I don't care if you're Warren Buffet or Jimmy Buffet - nobody knows if a stock is going up, down or f-ing sideways, least of all stockbrokers. But we have to pretend we know.
Jordan Belfort: You wanna know what money sounds like? Go to a trading floor on wall street. Fuck this, shit that. Cunt, cock, asshole. I couldn't believe how these guys talked to each other! I was hooked in seconds. It was like mainlining adrenelin.
When I was a kid, I played the piano for six years, and all my family are musicians.
Writing: It starts at the keyboard, and it ends at the far corners of the universe. --Paako
