Showing posts with label New York. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York. Show all posts

Monday, 24 October 2011

A sort of larger Glasgow



      So that was my first impression of New York, gained in a few brief hours: splendid women on the go, but nothing else out of the ordinary, for the town itself was a sort of larger Glasgow — there were no sky-scrapers then — and chiefly remarkable for being paved apparently with peanut shells, which were sold by swarms of urchins and crackled underfoot wherever you turned, even in the lobby of the Astor House

Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.153, Harper Collins, 1995.


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Friday, 21 October 2011

The women of New York



I refer to the women of New York, who for beauty of face and form, elegance of dress, and general style and deportment, are quite the finest I’ve struck — until they open their mouths, that is, which they do most of the time, but even that incessant nasal braying can’t rob them of their exquisite charm.

Flashman and the Angel of the Lord, p.151, Harper Collins, 1995.


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