Last week, I had to offer my publisher a bottle that was far too good for him simply because there was nothing between the insulting and the superlative.

It is impossible for me to estimate how many of my early impressions of the world, correct and the opposite, came to me through newspapers. Homicide, adultery, no-hit pitching, and Balkanism were concepts that, left to my own devices, I would have encountered much later in life.

The science of booby-trapping has taken a good deal of the fun out of following hot on the enemy's heels.

It is an anomaly that information, the one thing most necessary to our survival as choosers of our own way, should be a commodity subject to the same merchandising rules as chewing gum.

Any city may have one period of magnificence, like Boston or New Orleans or San Francisco, but it takes a real one to keep renewing itself until the past is perennially forgotten.

Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who own one.

Chicago seems a big city instead of merely a large place.