The New Yorker has devoted itself for 59 years not only to facts and literal accuracy but to truth. And truth begins, journalistically, with the facts.

Amid chaos of images, we value coherence. We believe in the printed word. And we believe in clarity. And we believe in immaculate syntax. And in the beauty of the English language.

There are other places, surely, for other people, but for me there is one place, Ann 
Arbor, for there it was I discovered what lifes bright possibilities were.

The New Yorker has devoted itself for 59 years not only to facts and literal accuracy but to truth. And truth begins, journalistically, with the facts.

Falling short of perfection is a process that just never stops.

We need to put in proper safeguards. How are we going to feel if somebody leases to the Taliban?