Pete Hamill
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"Pete Hamill" is an American journalist, novelist, essayist, editor and educator. Widely traveled and having written on a broad range of topics, he is perhaps best known for his career as a New York City journalist, as "the author of columns that sought to capture the particular flavors of New York City's politics and sports and the particular pathos of its crime." Hamill was a columnist and editor for the New York Post and The New York Daily News.

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It's a good demonstration of will for any terrorist outfit to consider. If they knocked out every subway line and all the bus terminals, New Yorkers would leave the house, moaning, and find their way to work. That's our tribe.

He steps on stage and draws the sword of rhetoric, and when he is through, someone is lying wounded and thousands of others are either angry or consoled.

If you're going to write about things that are as old as mankind, you've got to find a new, fresh way to write about them, to make people interested. Winchell found a way.

He was a very quiet guy, unlike the rest of the rabble, ... He had a low-key, wicked sense of humor. I had no idea that he was writing anything until someone called me up and said, 'Frank McCourt's written this amazing book,' which turned out to be 'Angela's Ashes.' .

Say what you will about him Ed Koch is still the best show in town.

The best newspapermen I know are those most thrilled by the daily pump of city room excitements; they long fondly for a "good murder"; they pray that assassinations, wars, catastrophes break on their editions.

There is something elegantly sinister about the Rolling Stones. They sit before you at a press conference like five unfolding switchblades; their faces set in rehearsed snarls; their hair studiously unkempt and matted; their clothes part of some private conceit; and the way they walk and talk and the songs they sing all become part of some long mean reach for the jugular.

He became out of step with the basic audience, because they didn't believe it. And I think that was the beginning of the end of Winchell. I think it was a self-inflicted wound.

This is truly marvelous work: full of mystery, nostalgia, joy, The Color of Whimsy.