The back two had fanned out a step to have a clear field of fire. Three revolvers, ungainly with their sausage-shaped silencers, whipped out of holsters concealed among the rags. With disciplined precision the three men aimed at different
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“Another friend commented, with some sarcasm, that, in putting up a building so far north and so far west of civilization, Mr. Clark might just as well be building in Dakota, which was then still a territory and not yet a pair of states.”
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
“London had had a subway system since 1863, but New York had not yet gone underground for at least two reasons. For one thing, New York was built on solid rock, and tunneling through the Manhattan schist presented enormous engineering obstacles. For another, during the years when “Boss” Tweed had the city in his grip, Tweed and his “ring” controlled the surface transportation lines and wanted no competition.”
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
“Herman Melville, by then well into his seventies, often walked with his little granddaughter in Central Park. He had been living quietly in New York for years, convinced that his literary career was over, working as a customs inspector on the Hudson River piers. The Schirmers “discovered” the almost-forgotten author of Moby Dick, and gave a dinner for Melville and his wife. The Schirmers apparently found Melville charming but a little sad. He was working again on a final novel, to be called Billy Budd. But, he said, he was sure his book would never be published unless he had it privately printed, because his popularity of more than thirty years earlier had all but vanished.”
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
― Life at the Dakota: New York's Most Unusual Address
“The things that happened in those camps still have power enough to make the stomach flutter with nausea. I feel that way myself, although the only close relative I ever had in the camps was my grandfather, and he died when I was three. But maybe there is something about what the Germans did that exercises a deadly fascination over us—something that opens the catacombs of the imagination. Maybe part of our dread and horror comes from a secret knowledge that under the right—or wrong—set of circumstances, we ourselves would be willing to build such places and staff them. Black serendipity. Maybe we know that under the right set of circumstances the things that live in the catacombs would be glad to crawl out.”
― Apt Pupil
― Apt Pupil
“I thought I was American, but in those days in Brooklyn, when you were asked what you were, you answered with a nationality other than your own. Since my parents were from Ireland, I was from a group called “Irish.”
― A Drinking Life: A Memoir
― A Drinking Life: A Memoir
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