I have a memory like an elephant. I remember every elephant I've ever met.
The only thing wrong with immortality is that it tends to go on forever.
A city is where you can sign a petition, boo the chief justice, fish off a pier, gaze at a hippopotamus, buy a flower at the corner, or get a good hamburger or a bad girl at 4 A.M. A city is where sirens make white streaks of sound in the sky and foghorns speak in dark grays. San Francisco is such a city.
A good column is one that sells paper. It doesn't matter how beautifully it is written and how much you admire the author... if it doesn't sell any papers, it's not a good column. It's a terrible yardstick to use, but in the newspaper business, that's the whole thing.
New Yorkers are stuck in a gloomy mucilage of mutual commiseration.
Americans are pragmatic, relatively uncomplicated, hearty and given to broad humor.
Just two days in Manhattan and you find yourself looking for a place to wash your handkerchief after you wipe your forehead and it comes away black. Is there a dirtier or more fascinating city anywhere in the land? The answer to both parts of the question has to be positively negative.
The world of Manhattan is small and tightly knit, and the man on top retains a certain humility. He knows how far and fast he can fall by looking at the guy across the street. The view from the $250,000 apartment covers a lot of ground, most of it condemned.
A city is a state - of mind, of taste, of opportunity. A city is a marketplace - where ideas are traded, opinions clash and eternal conflict may produce eternal truths.
San Franciscans have a bond of self-satisfaction bordering on smugness.
Old San Francisco - the one so many nostalgics yearn for - had buildings that related well to each other.
Philosophically, I don't like doing commercials.