“It isn’t possible to quantify the extent to which society and culture are indebted to Bohemia. In every age in every successful country, it has been important that at least a small part of the cityscape is not dominated by bankers, developers, chain stores, generic restaurants, and railway terminals. This little quarter should instead be the preserve of—in no special order—insomniacs and restaurants and bars that never close; bibliophiles and the little stores and stalls that cater to them; alcoholics and addicts and deviants and the proprietors who understand them; aspirant painters and musicians and the modest studios that can accommodate them; ladies of easy virtue and the men who require them; misfits and poets from foreign shores and exiles from remote and cruel dictatorships.”—"Last Call, Bohemia" Christopher Hitchens, on the threat of urban development in the West Village.
“When two people part it is the one who is not in love who makes the tender speeches.”—
Marcel Proust. I immediately thought of those times I’d offered the soft consolatory words, and felt ashamed; then I thought of those times someone had tried to pacify me as they left, and felt freshly wounded. He’s utterly right. (via mills) (via brigno)
“That’s the thing I’ll miss most, when I miss it – the life of New York City. And it always gets me when I come back. There’s the trip from JFK, in a cab, into the city, a route that takes the BQE, which runs parallel to the island of Manhattan on the other side of the East River, giving you the postcard view: the skyline, lit up, burning brightly, and in there, two million human beings, two million people on an island of twenty-two square miles (!). In there, they are living, they are eating, they are drinking, sleeping, doing it – and in there too, somewhere, my bars, my restaurants, my walks, my friends, my life.”—Jason Mulgrew on leaving NYC for LA. I can’t imagine moving out of NY.