Michigan is my antidote to Manhattan. This is where I come to relax.
In my first book, ‘Ghosts Of Manhattan,’ the setting was Wall Street, and I explored the predictable nature of a bond trader inside the compensation scheme at Bear Stearns and the government regulations of Wall Street. That was about money.
Anyone who’s ever been around an emergency in Manhattan realizes that there are plainclothes officers on these streets walking past us more than we ever realize.
Rotgut was, to me, just this way to get into the underground of Manhattan where you have these little pockets a villain could rise from; a rot in the bowels of Manhattan. It led to these stories that were just very creepy.
No part of Manhattan these days really has the same vibe I get from a Ramones song or a Velvet Underground song.
I wasn’t hanging around the movie theaters in New York where I grew up, a Manhattan brat.
Whenever I leave Manhattan, I get the bends!
Back on Nov. 23, 1963, I sailed into Manhattan Harbor onboard the Queen Mary and landed with no job and contacts and just $135 in my pocket. My first lodging was in a rundown hotel for $27 a week with the bathroom down the end of a corridor of beds.
At Manhattan GMAT, I had done my best to create a positive work environment and culture, and I further believed in rewarding people financially at or above the market rate for a job well done.
I love New York City. Everyone is busy with their own lives – and no one is interested in some Hollywood celebrity walking past in downtown Manhattan. That’s why it’s my favorite city. You can do what you want without attracting a crowd of curious onlookers.
As a native Staten Islander, it is very frustrating commuting to Manhattan.
Nathaniel Rich wrote ‘Odds Against Tomorrow’ well before Hurricane Sandy and its surge crashed onto the isle of Manhattan, well before the streets were flooded and the subways drowned, only the Goldman Sachs building sparkling above the darkened avenues.
In Manhattan, my go-to bag is a black L.L.Bean tote it never looks dirty!
I had never really felt settled in Brooklyn. I think it had to do with growing up in New Jersey and being someone who her whole life wanted to live in the city, and the city meant Manhattan.
I remember, many years ago, coming over the Brooklyn Bridge in the night and seeing the skyline of Manhattan, with the Twin Towers. This was, for me, a kind of religious experience.
Love stories happen in communities outside of just the Upper West Side of Manhattan.
I was going to clubs in Manhattan when I was 14.
I’d gone to Manhattan to become a model.
In Manhattan, I often do two or three or more shows a night, so I’m always working on new material.
Manhattan… capital of the 20th century, a city that has fascinated me for more than three decades.
A big shop in Manhattan would feel like we were betraying our roots. And we’re not just going to open a bunch of stores.
Manhattan’s always fascinating, too, just a big, stinky, smelly conglomeration of numbered avenues and streets, but it’s just got a vibe that’s hard to beat. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. I can’t put my finger on it.
I was there on 9/11. I watched the towers falling from my office window, at which point I decided I would give up my job at a law firm in Manhattan and come back to the U.K.
In about 2002, I moved from Manhattan to Brooklyn, to Red Hook.
I grew up in Manhattan, and now I live in Brooklyn.
The World Trade Center site will forever hold a special place in our city, in our hearts. But we would be untrue to the best part of ourselves and who we are as New Yorkers and Americans if we said no to a mosque in lower Manhattan.
In 2004, we opened our first store in Manhattan. I installed a big window so people could see me making the chocolates. That store cost $1.8 million. It has a 45-foot-long chocolate counter and a hot chocolate bar made in Louis XVI style because that’s when chocolate arrived in Europe.
I’d be Doctor Manhattan, a character from the Watchman.’ He can do everything, he’s the best superhero. There’s no other superhero that could beat him in a fight.
I was born in Manhattan, raised in Queens, went to high school and college in Brooklyn. My father was a city cop for over 30 years. To me, New York values are being patriotic, being strong, not panicking when there’s a crisis, and trying to help each other out.
Red Hook, Brooklyn, is a spit of land jutting out over the New York Harbor and looking across to the gleaming high rises of the financial district in Manhattan. Its views are amazing, its poverty stark.
When I’m working on a film, I think about how it will play with a tiny audience of friends whose opinions I respect – basically, a 40-bloc radius from my apartment in Manhattan.
Everybody in Hollywood has to beat the ‘no’ – and if you write code in Silicon Valley, or if you design cars in Detroit, if you manage hedge funds in Lower Manhattan, you also have to learn to beat the ‘no.’
I remember in the fifth grade my dad would take me to Manhattan to shop for clothes.
I could be on 52nd and Third in Manhattan up and ask a strange for directions and they will help you, that’s a rural heart. Your car breaks down in the middle of Iowa or somewhere, or Tennessee where I’m from, people want to help each other. Given each opportunity, you see how people come together.
I’ve seen tennis clubs close in Manhattan and garages put up in their place, and I’d sure like to be part of reversing that trend.
I moved from Australia to Manhattan five years ago and realized I was very well-accepted in the South Asian industry there.
My perspective is a lil different ‘cus im from Manhattan .
We lived in Manhattan, which was unbearable sometimes because it was so noisy. There were sirens blaring, construction sites going, people shouting and swearing at each other.
I’ve been asked a lot why didn’t ‘Ruined’ go to Broadway. It was the most successful play that Manhattan Theatre Club has ever had in that particular space, and yet we couldn’t find a home on Broadway.
How are the cabs in your city? In Manhattan, where I work, they are rather awful.
I’m English, and my favorite movie is ‘Manhattan.’
I trained for the marathon. I run along the East River, and I used to run all the way down Manhattan, up the West Side and back home.
It was precisely my love of the First Amendment that made me join sidewalk activists in 2010 to support an Islamic community center’s right to open in Lower Manhattan.
We can no better imagine what will be happening on the moon 500 years from now than Columbus could imagine contemporary Manhattan. Except to say that it will be a place familiar to billions of people.
‘Harlem River’ is about the Harlem River in uptown Manhattan. I don’t know much to say about it. I came upon that river a couple of years ago. I was doing a walk the length of Manhattan, from the top to the bottom, and I had never seen that river before.
We all got driven out of Manhattan. It was a very conducive place for artists when I was growing up, and now it’s definitely not. The city has been completely taken over by the rich.
Action fiction is driven more by what than by who. Put that ticking nuclear suitcase under Manhattan, and it’s relatively easy to create suspense. Literary fiction is driven more by who than by what.
There’s a restaurant in Manhattan called Balthazar, and next to it is Balthazar Bakery. It’s tiny, and it’s very charming to have that little retail outlet to sell the house desserts and breads.
Manhattan, after eight years here, still reminds me of Hong Kong. There are parts of Chinatown that are the spit and image of streets in Wan Chai, and I am held in thrall by the Chrysler building as much as I was by I.M. Pei’s Bank of China Tower.
Living in areas with a high population density does not need to be synonymous with overcrowding. Manhattan has an extremely dense population and is considered by many to be a highly desirable place to live.
Sometimes, I feel that Manhattan in particular has gotten really tame and gentrified or something.
When Sweden’s Jan-Ove Waldner travels to China to play table tennis, he is mobbed when he leaves his hotel as if he were a rock star walking around Manhattan or a soccer star walking around Europe.
New York is still the most glamorous city I’ve ever been to, but it’s starting to feel older. The sirens still wail; the paths in Central Park still pulsate with joggers. The Manhattan schist still trembles beneath your feet. But weirdly, it’s starting to feel, dare I say it, a bit quaint.
Until I was about 13, Manhattan had been a world seen from its edges.
In ’82 and ’83, that was the rise of the VCR. Every Friday, my brother and I would go to Crazy Eddie’s – which was a video store in Manhattan – and rent five horror movies. And that’s basically what we did, basically, for three years. Becoming social misfits.
A lot of the fiction I read growing up was post-war American, and not all of it centers on Manhattan, but around people of the Mad Men generation, people like John Cheever and, in more modern times, Don DeLillo, who I always mention.
As a Manhattan resident, I’m gutted by what certain landlords are doing, pushing folks who have lived in their apartments for decades out of their homes, as a greedy tactic to get more rent from newer tenants. It’s one of the most disgusting, inhumane things I’ve ever witnessed in my beautiful city.
