Central Park Quotes

“When you look for beauty, you usually end up finding it.



From Central Park Song (A Screenplay)”
― Zack Love, Stories and Scripts: an Anthology

“And today is really the happiest day of your life, because today you woke up and stumbled across the shadow of your soul in broad daylight."

From Central Park Song: a Screenplay”
― Zack Love, Stories and Scripts: an Anthology

“Let the park live in you until it sings you a song.”
― Zack Love, Stories and Scripts: an Anthology

“I wish I knew how to get you back. And apparently fate won't let me give up"


From Central Park Song: a Screenplay”
― Zack Love, Stories and Scripts: an Anthology

“Like the bronze statue of the Angel of the Waters, those who pursue perfection find themselves paralysed by the possibility of flaw, fault or failure.”
― Jamie Le Fay, Beginnings

“As Elizabeth Blackmar and Ray Rosenzweig wrote in their magisterial history of [Central Park in NYC]: 'The issue of demoncratic access to the park has also been raised by the increasing number of homeless New Yorkers. Poor people--from the 'squatters' of the 1850s to the 'tramps' of the 1870s and 1890s to the Hooverville residents of the 1930s--have always turned to the park land for shelter...The growing visibility of homeless people in Central Park osed in the starkest terms the contradiction between Americans' commitment to democratic space and their acquiescence in vast disparities of wealth and power.”
― Rebecca Solnit, Storming the Gates of Paradise: Landscapes for Politics

“It's not how long you see something. It's how you intensely you feel it"


From Central Park Song: a Screenplay”
― Zack Love, Stories and Scripts: an Anthology

“The escaped polar bear owned Central Park. Until we killed it.”
― Chris Weitz, The New Order

“Only criminals and madmen walk into Central Park after midnight...or, occasionally, an actor. (Dark City Lights)”
― Jane Dentinger

“VISIONS OF GRANDEUR

I'm walking through a sheet of glass instead of the door,
Flying over a giant candlestick lighting up Central Park,
Repeating two courses at Hard Knock's College,
And swimming through the Red Sea with silky jelly fish.

I'm hopping over an empty row house in Philadelphia,
Getting a seventy dollar manicure on a gondola in Venice,
Wearing a white pearl necklace stolen from Goodwill,
And running my first New York City marathon.

I'm discussing the meaning of life with my late cat Charlie.
Dating John Doe- the thirty-third chef at the White House,
Running non-stop on a broken leg through a bomb-blasted city,
And keeping a multi-lingual monkey named Alfredo as my pet.

I'm spying on two hundred and twenty-two homegrown terrorists from Iowa,
Worshiped by a red-headed gorilla named Salamander,
Sleeping with a giant teddy bear dressed in black leather,
And wearing hot pink lipstick over a shade of midnight blue.”
― Giorge Leedy, Uninhibited From Lust To Love

“He would go looking for it everywhere in the years to come. Love, love, love. As if it were a coin to be found in a field, or a park. As if it could be obtained without forfeiture.”
― Jonathan Lee, The Great Mistake

“We took our food order to go, in greasy paper bags, and walked across Columbus Circle to Central Park. He helped me up the giant prehistoric-looking rock just off the playground.”
― Camille Perri, The Assistants

“I discovered the jungle of Central Park—between the 60s and 70s, on the west side. In the afternoons, Sundays especially, a parade of hunters prowled that area—or they would sit or lie on the grass waiting for that day’s contact.”
― John Rechy, City of Night

“The 150 years old elm trees are blossoming beautifully in the warm and pleasant spring breezes. There are plentiful International tourists roaming to and from, with gleeful facial expressions of satisfied expectations, while in the mist of their expeditions.”
― John Jeremiah, The Adventures of Central Park NY Cats

“When I looked up, I found myself at the edge of a rolling expanse of grass and trees. It wasn't a forest, but as I wandered deeper, following a concrete path that led in soft, sloping curves, I could feel the scents changing. Even though it was still winter, there was life here. I spotted a Douglas fir and went to it, putting my nose deep into the crags of its bark.
Hey, you, I whispered. I could feel my breath warming the trunk, surrounding my face. I made my way from one tree to the next, greeting each, inhaling spruce and cedar, cherry and apple, and some I didn't yet know.
When it started to get dark, I found the trail again and headed back to the hostel. I had more buses in my future, but I carried the scent of sap with me on my fingertips.”
― Erica Bauermeister, The Scent Keeper

“He decided to take the C downtown and fumbled through blizzardy wind to Central Park West. Once there, he stepped inside the park. The wind dropped magically away. In the stillness, Gregory noticed that every twig and branch held a delicate stack of snow. Snow swarmed like honeybees in the golden glow of the old-fashioned streetlamps; it slathered tree trunks and sparkled like crushed diamonds at his feet. He heard a whispering noise and saw two people glide from among the trees on cross-country skis. A lavender lunar radiance filled the park. It was a world from childhood: castles and forests and magic lamps and princes scaling walls of brambles.”
― Jennifer Egan, The Candy House

“She walked along the park, passing the horses hitched up to hansom cabs, their drivers lazily trying to wave down tourists with money to burn. She narrowly avoided a pile of dog shit, and then a pile of horse shit. The leaves of every tree in Central Park shimmered in the last gasp of sunlight. People who didn't love New York could just fuck all the way off.”
― Emma Straub, This Time Tomorrow

“The crest of Cherry Hill was a wonderful vantage point. To the west the lake gleamed sapphire blue in the May sunshine. To the east and south cherry blossoms blazed white against the green landscape.”
― Louisa Morgan, The Age of Witches

“It had always struck me as a place to be lost, experienced passage by passage in a series of unfolding images—not something you could take in in one possessive glance.”
― Vinson Cunningham, Great Expectations