A city is a crazy concrete jungle whose people at the end of each day somehow make a small step ahead against terrible odds.

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.

The clock doesn't matter in baseball. Time stands still or moves backwards. Theoretically, one game could go on forever. Some seem to.

A city is not gauged by its length and width, but by the broadness of its vision and the height of its dreams.

All American cars are basically Chevrolets.

New Yorkers are stuck in a gloomy mucilage of mutual commiseration.

Satire of satire tends to be self-canceling, and deliberate shock tactics soon lose their ability to shock, especially when they're too deliberate.