"New York is a city of things unnoticed. It is a city with cats sleeping under parked cars, two stone armadillos crawling up St. Patrick's Cathedral, and thousands of ants creeping on top of the Empire State Building. The ants probably were carried up there by wind or birds, but nobody is sure; nobody in New York knows knows any more about the ants than they do about the panhandler who takes taxis to the Bowery; of the dapper man who picks trash out of Sixth Avenue trash cans; or the medium in the West Seventies who claims, 'I am clairvoyant, clairaudient, and clairsensous.'"

Currently falling in love with Gay Talese's body of work.