Month: June 2001
The last of 363 days in Paris
Rue de la Butte aux Cailles is the center of a small neighborhood of bars and restaurants between Denfert-Rochereau and Place d’Italie. It’s small, friendly, young and French. To some people it’s a foregone conclusion that the last 12 months have been wonderful for me, seeing as how I spent them in France. So when…
Any responsible adult doesn’t need months training not to push the wrong button
“This money should have been spent on the poor. And it was. One hundred dollars a month is the average salary of a Russian aerospace worker.”
If you really wanted to improve education, you would turn off the televisions
“He’s minding the store and puttering around the house, fixing things up, reading and talking to his friends making speeches. He’s done some great interviews with kids in the neighborhood. You know they come in and interview him for school projects. You know they sell Girl Scout cookies, and he buys 20 boxes. It’s been…
He worked among drunks, drifters, fakes, frauds and the roof-less
“Mitchell’s religion was understatement, which produces clarity and lasts forever. He would have preferred violent death to being caught with wooden phrases. He needed no swearing or bathroom descriptions. Upon discovering somebody who could talk, he put them in chains. He would listen to them, and quote them for pages.”
I can say that what happened today in Jerusalem is unprecedented
“I have never seen anything like this in my life. here are no police. There are no soldiers. The streets are full of Palestinians. I feel like they surrendered the city to us.”