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

People everywhere confuse what they read in newspapers with news.

Henry Miller may write about revelers self-woven into a human hooked rug, because his ecstasy is solemn.

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

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.

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 only way to write is well and how you do it is your own damn business.