144 Quotes About Nyc

It is no surprise this is the reputed to be the greatest city in the world. It is a blob of brick and neon connected by the arterial subway, equal parts fear and wonder. It breathes, more robotic than organic, but alive.

New York is a work of art in and of itself. It’s a masterpiece that shouldn’t make sense, yet somehow, it does.

The city has a way of tricking people into honesty, or honest sounding lies. It is the noise, the crowds, squeezing things from deep inside you that you assumed would be hidden beneath the honk of a cab. You breathe in the vapor rising from manholes and the unceasing petrichor and cough out something as foolish as “I love you” to someone you don’t yet.

Upstate New York is anywhere north of New York City.

Another deputy threw down a clear plastic trash bag with my orange jumpsuit. I reached for the bag and was knocked down to the floor with an overhead right, another shove, and I was inside the 4X6 room. The heavy white door was already closing behind me. The walls here were made of hard white rubber. There was a small shower head towards the back of the tiny cell and a grated hole in the middle of the floor | I assumed that the hold would be my toilet. The cell reeked of anguish.

Ten years have passed and every day that I walk throughout the city, I feel honored to be a part of it - and atom in the blood of a beating heart belonging to the most wonderfully diverse, smart, creative, passionate being.

Life is amazingly simplified,” she wrote in her journal, “now that the recalcitrant forsythia has at last decided to come and blurt out springtime in petalled fountains of yellow. In spite of reams of papers to be written, life has snitched a cocaine sniff of sun-worship and salt air, and all looks promising.” She already adored New York.

It was a brave city, she decided, eyeing them. Brave in its other sense; not courageous, so much as outstanding, commanding. It was too nice a town to die in. Though it had no honeysuckle vines and no balconies and no guitars, it was meant for love. For living and for love, and the two were inseparable; one didn't come without the other.("Too Nice A Day To Die")

Oh, Williamsburg. There was a point when you seemed like a scary, tough neighborhood, but now it's obvious that the graffiti on your walls gets put there by art students.