Quotes About Urban

When I was in nightclubs, I thought they were a really important way for young people who come to New York to meet people and connect.

If hotels are replacing nightclubs, then they're replacing nightclubs for yuppies.

They have great restaurants, good nightlife. Everything is here in Brooklyn that you can possibly want.

Mumbai is becoming more and more of a nightmare.

Anyone who lives in N.Y.C. will tell you that getting into a confrontation on a city street is a complete nightmare 100 percent of the time.

Driving to work is a nightmare in most Indian cities; people do it because they have little choice.

I eat out three times a day most days of the year. This is no big deal to most New Yorkers, and it is not something I am necessarily proud of - it's simply the nature of my itinerant life.

Living in New York, no big deal. I am loving New York - there is something about the energy.

In L.A., you can put out a craft-service table anywhere, and it's no big deal. But in New York, people who walk by it on the street get really angry about it.

This is New York, and there's no law against being annoying.

And all three are different from policing in smaller cities and towns across the country.

The city hurt to look at, all angles and glints of sun like shattered glass.

Reading is a solitary pursuit, even a lone passage to a separate world. Yet to read in public, amid strangers, gives it another dimension. Sometimes the city speaks to the page, or the page seems to open up to people passing by. An outdoor reader shares the pulse of a timeless urban conversation between the world and the written word.

Bombing of urban areas was not considered a war crime at Nuremberg; reason is, the West did more of it than the Germans.

One of my favorite things about New York is that you can pick up the phone and order anything and someone will deliver it to you. Once I lived for a year in another city, and almost every waking hour of my life was spent going to stores, buying things, loading them into the car, bringing them home, unloading them, and carrying them into the house. How anyone gets anything done in these places is a mystery to me.

I live in my neighborhood. My neighborhood consists of the dry cleaner, the subway stop, the pharmacist, the supermarket, the cash machine, the deli, the beauty salon, the nail place, the newsstand, and the place where I go for lunch. All this is within two blocks of my house. Which is another thing I love about life in New York: Everything is right there. If you forgot to buy parsley, it takes only a couple of minutes to run out and get it. This is good, because I often forget to buy parsley.

Homesickness hits hardest in the middle of a crowd in a large, alien city.

In a city this size, every year, hundreds of husbands walk away. Kids leave home. Wives escape. People disappear.

Home was a condominium on the fifteenth floor of a high-rise, a sort of filing cabinet for widows and young professionals.

On Northeast Mississippi Avenue

Northeast Mississippi Avenue

Walls tagged with graffiti (one such piece of tagging: a stencil of a familiar Sith Lord's helmet with the phrase beneath it reading VADER LIVES).

Reno was somebody from the streets. I think he took to me because he saw me as somebody from the streets, somebody who hated to see the sun go down on Eighth Avenue, who would run up on Amsterdam Avenue, follow the sun down the hill, across Broadway, to the Drive and the Hudson River, and then would wait for the sun to come back. I guess Reno thought he'd found somebody who was destined to be in the streets of Harlem for the rest of his life.

New York was just a city. He had seen her wake in the morning like a slut, and pick murdered men from between her teeth, and suicides from the tangles of her hair.