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I can't wait to get back to New York City where at least when I walk down the streat, no read more
I can't wait to get back to New York City where at least when I walk down the streat, no one ever hesitates to tell me exactly what they think of me.
Just where the Treasury's marble front
Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations,--
Where Jews and Gentiles most read more
Just where the Treasury's marble front
Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations,--
Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont
To throng for trade and last quotations;
Where, hour, by hour, the rates of gold
Outrival, in the ears of people,
The quarter-chimes, serenely tolled
From Trinity's undaunted steeple.
New York's such a wonderful city. Although I was at the library today. The guys are very rude. I said, read more
New York's such a wonderful city. Although I was at the library today. The guys are very rude. I said, "I'd like a card." He says, "You have to prove you're a citizen of New York." So I stabbed him.
Practically everybody in New York has half a mind to write a book -and does
Practically everybody in New York has half a mind to write a book -and does
Lo! body and soul!--this land!
Mighty Manhattan, with spires, and
The sparkling and hurrying tides, and the read more
Lo! body and soul!--this land!
Mighty Manhattan, with spires, and
The sparkling and hurrying tides, and the ships;
The varied and ample land,--the South
And the North in the light--Ohio's shores, and flashing Missouri,
And ever the far-spreading prairies, covered with grass and corn.
- Walt Whitman,
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here read more
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of exiles.
Silent, grim, colossal, the Big City has ever stood against its
revilers. They call it hard as iron; they read more
Silent, grim, colossal, the Big City has ever stood against its
revilers. They call it hard as iron; they say that nothing of
pity beats in its bosom; they compare its streets with lonely
forests and deserts of lava. But beneath the hard crust of the
lobster is found a delectable and luscious food. Perhaps a
different simile would have been wiser. Still nobody should take
offence. We would call nobody a lobster with good and sufficient
claws.
I went to see a band in New York. The lead singer got on the microphone, and he said How read more
I went to see a band in New York. The lead singer got on the microphone, and he said How many of you people feel like human beings tonight? Then he said How many of you feel like animals? And everyone cheered after the animals part. But the thing is, I cheered after the human being part because I did not know that there was a second part to the question.
George Washington, with his right art upraised, sits his iron
horse at the lower corner of Union Square. . read more
George Washington, with his right art upraised, sits his iron
horse at the lower corner of Union Square. . . . Should the
General raise his left hand as he has raised his right, it would
point to a quarter of the city that forms a haven for the
oppressed and suppressed of foreign lands. In the cause of
national or personal freedom they have found refuge here, and the
patriot who made it for them sits his steed, overlooking their
district, while he listens through his left ear to vaudeville
that caricatures the posterity of the proteges.