...the long thin line of La Cienega (before it became the Fifty-seventh Street of the West) stretching directly ahead...
Showing posts with label Los Angeles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Los Angeles. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
John Houseman: "Lost Fortnight" (The Blue Dahlia, pg. xi)
Labels:
La Cienega,
Los Angeles,
metaphor,
names,
street,
west
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Farewell, My Lovely, 188-189

'Okey, it's a nice town. So is Chicago. You could live there a long time and not see a Tommy gun. Sure it's a nice town. It's probably no crookeder than Los Angeles. But you can only buy a piece of a big city. You can buy a town this size all complete, with the original box and tissue paper. That's the difference. And that makes me want out.'
Labels:
Chicago,
corruption,
gun,
Los Angeles,
Santa Monica
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The Long Goodbye, ?
Friday, September 5, 2008
The Little Sister, p.?

I smelled Los Angeles before I got to it. It smelled stale and old like a living room that had been closed too long. But the coloured lights fooled you. The lights were wonderful.
Labels:
analogy,
lights,
living room,
Los Angeles,
metaphor,
smell
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