There's that stigma about New Yorkers, how they're so mean, but in my experience it was quite the opposite. People were very genuine and very nice, even on the subway.
Most New Yorkers want to look amazing, and they want you to understand that they look amazing, but they also want you to stop staring at them.
I do love to walk around in New York because people will notice me, smile, but they never bother anyone. New Yorkers are very cool. I love New York.
At the end of the day, New Yorkers need a mayor who understands the problems they face, brings a smart plan and good people to the table, and, more than anything, has the independence, courage and conviction to do the right thing.
I see and write things first as an artist, second as a woman, and third as a New Yorker. All three have built-in perspectives that aren't neutral.
In the New Yorker library, I have long been shelved between Nadine Gordimer and Brendan Gill; an eerie little space nestled between high seriousness of purpose and legendary lightness of touch.
I'm a New Yorker, and I rarely get to work at home.
I can't wait for summer in the city! I love all the free activities in the parks that become available to us New Yorkers. Yoga and movie screenings in Bryant Park, concerts in Central Park - there's so much more available to the New York community in the summer! And everyone just seems to smile more.
New Yorkers are either the nicest or the rudest.
Like most New Yorkers I was shell-shocked immediately after 9/11 and couldn't put into words what I was feeling.
There was one person who greatly and directly benefited my career--my agent Virginia Kidd. From 1968 to the late nineties she represented all my work, in every field except poetry. I could send her an utterly indescribable story, and she'd sell it to Playboy or the Harvard Law Review or Weird Tales or The New Yorker--she knew where to take it. She never told me what to write or not write, she never told me, That won't sell, and she never meddled with my prose.
A New York doctor has finished a five year study on what smells have the biggest effect on New Yorkers. The smell New Yorkers like the most: vanilla. The smell New Yorkers like the least: New Jersey.
Some of Mr. Gregory's poems have merely appeared in The New Yorker ; others are New Yorker poems: the inclusive topicality, the informed and casual smartness, the flat fashionable irony, meaningless because it proceeds from a frame of reference whose amorphous superiority is the most definite thing about it they are the trademark not simply of a magazine but of a class.
I have come to understand myself as more of a New York writer, or more of a woman writer, but I don't feel like that while I'm writing. But I think that most New Yorkers would object to calling me a New Yorker. I didn't grow up here.
Publication in 'The New Yorker' meant everything, and it's no exaggeration to say that it changed my life.
I believe in New Yorkers. Whether they’ve ever questioned the dream in which they live, I wouldn’t know, because I won’t ever dare ask that question.
Every true New Yorker believes with all his heart that when a New Yorker is tired of New York, he is tired of life.
There are a lot of New York City Thanksgiving traditions. For example, a lot of New Yorkers don't buy the frozen Thanksgiving turkey. They prefer to buy the bird live and then push it in front of a subway train.
We have a policy at The New Yorker, .. That is, if someone doesn't want to be profiled, we drop it. I would like you to show me the same courtesy.
It is difficult to offend a New Yorker.
From the moment a New Yorker is confronted with almost any large city of Europe, it is impossible for him to pretend to himself that his own city is anything other than an unscrupulous real-estate speculation
New Yorkers are inclined to assume it will never rain, and certainly not on New Yorkers.
New Yorkers are so impersonal, if it wasn't for muggings there wouldn't be any contact at all!
The last time anybody made a list of the top hundred character attributes of New Yorkers, common sense snuck in at number 79.
I've been a New Yorker for ten years, and the only people who are nice to us turn out to be Moonies.
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