Sometimes, when I look at my work at the newspaper and squint in just the right way, I can even see it as a microcosm of democracy itself. After all, every staff member participates in the creation of each issue. I solicit their ideas. I value the contributions of women and minorities. Of course, I wasn't democratically elected, but what newspaper chief ever was?
Now listen, ' said George angrily, 'I've been in a newspaper office all evening and I know better than you what's going on.' 'Nonsense. If there's one place in the world where nobody knows what's going on, it's a newspaper office.
You should never pick up a newspaper when you're feeling good, because every newspaper has a special department, called the "Bummer Desk", which is responsible for digging up depressing front-page stories with headlines like "DOORBELL USE LINKED TO LEUKEMIA" and "OZONE LAYER COMPLETELY GONE DIRECTLY OVER YOUR HOUSE.
We've got a few kids who are friends with people on the (school) newspaper, and they've kind of pushed them a little bit. (The newspaper) wrote a story about the fact that we don't get a lot of recognition inside our school. We're getting a lot of students coming out to our games.
Take away the newspaper-and this country of ours would become a scene of chaos. Without daily assurance of the exact facts-so far as we are able to know and publish them-the public imagination would run riot. Ten days without the daily newspaper and the strong pressure of worry and fear would throw the people of this country into mob hysteria-feeding upon rumors, alarms, terrified by bugbears and illusions. We have become the watchmen of the night and of a troubled day...
I had decided that I wanted to earn my living as a writer and the only place in Waterbury where they paid you for writing was at the local newspaper. My opportunity came when the paper had an opening for a night janitor. Opportunities are easy to miss, because they don't always show up in their best clothes. Sometimes opportunities look like beggars in rags. After an eight-hour shift in the shop tossing thirty-pound crates I hustled down to the newspaper building and cleaned toilets, with a vague plan that it would somehow lead to a reporter's position.
Or, you say that this business of marking books is going to slow up your reading. It probably will. That's one of the reasons for doing it. Most of us have been taken in by the notion that speed of reading is a measure of our intelligence. There is no such thing as the right speed for intelligent reading. Some things should be read quickly and effortlessly, and some should be read slowly and even laboriously. The sign of intelligence in reading is the ability to read different things differently according to their worth. In the case of good books, the point is not to see how many of them you can get through, but rather how many can get through you-how many you can make your own. A few friends are better than a thousand acquaintances. If this be your aim, as it should be, you will not be impatient if it takes more time and effort to read a great book than it does a newspaper.
Juliet!' I whip around but not quickly enough. She's swallowed by the crowd, the gap that allowed her to break for the door closing just as quickly as it opened, a shifting Tetris pattern of bodies...
I brought the newspaper close up to my eyes to get a better view of George Pollucci's face, spotlighted like a three-quarter moon against a vague background of brick and black sky. I felt he had something important to tell me, and that whatever it was might just be written on his face. But the smudgy crags of George Pollucci's features melted away as I peered at them, and resolved themselves into a regular pattern of dark and light and medium gray dots. The inky black newspaper paragraph didn't tell why Mr Pollucci was on the ledge, or what Sgt Kilmartin did to him when he finally got him in through the window.