There Are Fewer Things More Thrilling In

In All My Years Of New York Cab Riding I Have Yet To Find The Colorful, Philosophical Cabdriver That Keeps Popping Up On The Late Movies.

The Hand Of Fate Had Dipped Into The Ragbag Of Humanity.

A Man Today Never Feels So Alive As When He Is Hurtling From One Point To Another On The Azimuth.

Manhattan Cabs Are Born Old.

The Reality Of What We Really Are Is Often Times Found In The Small Snips, Way Down At The Bottom Of Things.