Nyc Sidewalk Quotes

Next day, evening rush hour, it's just starting to rain... sometimes she can't resist, she needs to be out in the street. What might only be a simple point on the workday cycle, a reconvergence of what the day scattered as Sappho said some place back in some college course, Maxine forgets, becomes a million pedestrian dramas, each one charged with mystery, more intense than high-barometer daylight can ever allow. Everything changes. There's that clean, rained-on smell. The traffic noise gets liquefied. Reflections from the street into the windows of city buses fill the bus interiors with unreadable 3-D images, as surface unaccountably transforms to volume. Average pushy Manhattan schmucks crowding the sidewalks also pick up some depth, some purpose—they smile, they slow down, even with a cellular phone stuck in their ear they are more apt to be singing to somebody than yakking. Some are observed taking houseplants for walks in the rain. Even the lightest umbrella-to-umbrella contact can be erotic.

Not so skinny,” I joke. “Have a ball, Natalie.” Natalie was single until I introduced her to my father –but that’s another story. She has two teenage daughters and, luckily, her sister is coming to stay to look after them while Natalie takes a deserved break in Hawaii. By the time she returns, I’ll have a nice package to offer –I’ll work hard on my presentation and come up with a choice of projects. I head across the road for a coffee. It’s both a comforting and disconcerting fact that there’s a franchise coffee shop on practically every corner of NYC. You don’t have to go far to feed your addiction. I shuffle through the door, now back in my sneakers –New York City sidewalks do not favor high heels for any period of time. You can tell how long someone has been

Growing up in NYC,The broken sidewalks, graffiti filled subways, and humid Laundromats, did not offer solace. I found solace in the strings of my violin, in my ballet slippers at the studio, and while gazing at frescoes in the halls of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was always in the Arts that my soul was replenished.

Hello from the cracks in the sidewalks of NYC,” Berkowitz wrote, “and from the ants that dwell in these cracks and feed on the dried blood of the dead that has settled into the cracks.

Christmas in New York has its own kind of magic… Lights in every window, music in the air, and a soul-whispering feeling that somehow… everything is going to be okay. This city moves fast and the temperatures drop, but Christmas time slows the heart just enough to notice the beauty… the kindness… the little moments that make life feel warm again. I’ll always believe there is something magical about Christmas in NYC… Maybe it reminds you that wonder isn’t just for kids… that hope isn’t just for holidays… and that joy can show up in the middle of a crowded sidewalk. It’s a special time…. a season that makes this city and my soul glow… inside and out.