The Park Avenue of poodles and polished brass; it is cab country, tip-town, glassville, a window-washer's paradise.

Most journalists are restless voyeurs who see the warts on the world, the imperfections in people and places. . . . gloom is their game, the spectacle their passion, normality their nemesis.

News, if unreported, has no impact. It might as well have not happened at all.

The real problem is what to do with problem solvers after the problem is solved.

The reporter . . . wrote with the hope that he would get a by-line in the "Times," a testimony to his being alive on that day . . . and all the tomorrows of microfilm.