He loves "the little Polack", he declares, though he gets a flash of panic when Frank Sinatra threatens him because Polanski is detaining Mrs Sinatra - Mia Farrow - on the set of Rosemary's Baby.
"I began to transfer my awe from rock stars to radicals," he declares, though he felt wracked by guilt at hiding behind his press badge as the cudgels connected with the skulls of brothers and sisters.
"This is all a bit posh!" he declares, though it's a reasonably safe bet that he earns more than everyone else here put together, even if he currently looks more like a courier than anything resembling a rock god.
"I am not a socialite," he once declared, "though I seem to have got the reputation for being one.
The Obama advocates declare, though, that we have entered an entirely new political era.
"Leave Sian alone," he declared, as though they had been stalking his own daughter.
He declared that, though his work dealt with profound themes, "put in one lousy dragon and they call you a fantasy writer".
Afterwards, though, he declared it an exhausting marathon he wouldn't repeat.
He did not return when nationhood was declared, though he says he celebrated from afar.
Mr. Hartford moved to a townhouse on East 30th Street but subsequently lost it when he declared bankruptcy, even though he was still the beneficiary of a trust fund yielding more than $500,000 a year.
