The beauty of New York is unintentional; it arose independent of human design, like a stalagmite cavern.

New York is the place where all the aspirations of the Western World meet to form one vast master aspiration, as powerful as the suction of a steam dredge. It is the icing on the pie called Christian civilization.

Almost all the people I met in New York were trying to reduce.

When New Yorkers tell one about the dangers of their city, the muggings, the dinner parties to which no one turns up for fear of being attacked on the way, the traffic snarl-ups, the bland indifference of the city cops, they are unmistakably bragging.

In all my years of New York cab riding I have yet to find the colorful, philosophical cabdriver that keeps popping up on the late movies.

Manhattan cabs are born old.

New York is a wonderful city... It is going to be the capital of the world.

The utter insanity of living in a place like this doesn't occur to the 9,000,000 people who inhabit New York. Except for visits I think I shall not be here any more as a resident.

New York isn't like the rest of the country-it's like a nation itself-more tolerant than the rest in a curious way. Littleness gets swallowed up here. All the viciousness that makes other cities vicious is sucked up and absorbed in New York.

New York is of course many cities, and an exile does not return to the one he left.