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It couldn't have happened anywhere but in little old New York.
It couldn't have happened anywhere but in little old New York.
New York Taxi Rules:1. Driver speaks no English.2. Driver just got here two days ago from someplace like Segal.3. Driver read more
New York Taxi Rules:1. Driver speaks no English.2. Driver just got here two days ago from someplace like Segal.3. Driver hates you.
In dress, habits, manners, provincialism, routine and narrowness,
he acquired that charming insolence, that irritating
completeness, that sophisticated read more
In dress, habits, manners, provincialism, routine and narrowness,
he acquired that charming insolence, that irritating
completeness, that sophisticated crassness, that overbalanced
poise that makes the Manhattan gentleman so delightfully small in
his greatness.
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.
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 is the Caoutchouc City. . . . They have the furor
rubberendi.
New York is the Caoutchouc City. . . . They have the furor
rubberendi.
If there ever was an aviary overstocked with jays it is that
Yaptown-on-the-Hudson, call New York. Cosmopolitan they call read more
If there ever was an aviary overstocked with jays it is that
Yaptown-on-the-Hudson, call New York. Cosmopolitan they call it,
you bet. So's a piece of fly-paper. You listen close when
they're buzzing and trying to pull their feet out of the sticky
stuff. "Little old New York's good enough for us"--that's what
they sing.
You'd think New York people was all wise; but no, they can't get
a chance to learn. Every thing's read more
You'd think New York people was all wise; but no, they can't get
a chance to learn. Every thing's too compressed. Even the
hay-seeds are bailed hay-seeds. But what else can you expect
from a town that's shut off for the world by the ocean on one
side and New Jersey on the other?
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.