It drains the bars and cafes after hours, concentrates the wicked and the guilty along its chipped Formica counter, and thrums with the gossip of criminals, policemen, shtarkers,and schlemiels, whores and night owls ... three or four floaters, solitaries, and… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
My Saturday Night. My Saturday night is like a microwave burrito. Very tough to ruin something that starts out so bad to begin with. — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
Entertainment is a sacred pursuit when done well. When done well, it raises the quality of human life. — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“Anyway, it's a pretty good story," I said. "You have to admit." "Yeah?" He crumpled up the Kleenex, having dispatched the solitary tear. "You… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
There were so many Pittsburgh poets in my hallway that if, at that instant, a meteorite had come smashing through my roof, there would… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“Badass.'" My grandfather sampled the flavor of the word. It did not seem to revolt him, but it was nothing he needed ever to… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
See you in the funny papers," he said. Jaunty, he reminded himself; always jaunty. In my panache is their hope for salvation. — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“I didn't want to be left alone with Timothy, not because I was afraid of him but because I was afraid that somebody would… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“He had already seized this particular day once, but he was prepared, if need be, to go ahead and seize the motherfucker all over… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“We figure he must have let him out. The perpetrator, I mean. He's blind and we figure he just wandered off and maybe got… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“Then I reminded myself that I was always willing to listen to arguments in favor of avoiding an unpleasant chore, and I shook my… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“Love great first lines and paragraphs. From The Yiddish Policemen's Union: Nine months Landsman's been flopping at the Hotel Zamenhof without any of his… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
“Life blew in gusts from the hole in the side of the elephant with a rank smell and a comic flatulence.” — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
Not only would I never want to belong to any club that would have me for a member--if elected I would wear street shoes… — Michael Chabon Copy Share Image
