One of the great pleasure of a great city is walking. And walking and walking, which is how we spent an afternoon last week in New York. It was a day full of bluster, and while we were in MoMA where (brag alert) our daughter works as a curatorial assistant, rain swept through. By the time we stepped back outside, the umbrellas were closing and the puddles were shining. Our destination was that bookshop among bookshops, St. Mark’s, but first we meandered, among the shivery daffodils in Bryant Park and out onto
AKA East 41 Street, a two block stretch between Grand Central and…
…the beautiful stone lair of Fortitude and Patience.
Bronze (I think) plaques stud the sidewalk all along the way, each one an illustrated quote from a writer, a lovely, literary, yellow brick road. Paul risked life and limb–unless you harbor a strong streak of masochism, you really don’t want to dawdle on a mid-town sidewalk at 5 PM–to take photos of the ones I liked best, and here some are, starting with my two favorites:
And a couple more:
And of course: