By Margaret Fishback The New Yorker, March 30 , 1935P. 84 E.G. Hill is a scarlet rose; View Article By Jelani Cobb By David Remnick By Jia Tolentino By Jia Tolentino.
By Mary Ballard Duryee The New Yorker, February 24 , 1940P. 69 Now female hats like helmets rise View Article By Anthony Lane By Rebecca Mead By Alan Burdick By Jia Tolentino.
By William Stafford The New Yorker, December 20 , 1969P. 70 After we talked, after the moon rose, View Article By Anthony Lane By Jia Tolentino By Rebecca Mead By John Cassidy.
Thus does Genius rise, View Article By Rivka Galchen By Zoë Heller By Jia Tolentino By Malcolm Gladwell.
For 25 years Nigel Howard has had a high-rise view on the morphing skylines of the UK's major cities, which helps him recall major events.
With few exceptions, other than a beguiling high-rise view of the city in ghostly crossbeams below, like a swath of crumpled gauze, the predominant style is borrowed.
By Louis Simpson The New Yorker, June 15 , 1963P. 39 When the last star breathes like a rose View Article By Phil Klay By Troy Patterson By John Cassidy By Andy Borowitz.
By Kathleen Raine The New Yorker, December 18 , 1965P. 50 I paused in a garden alley of cypress and rose, View Article By Rivka Galchen By Larissa MacFarquhar By Malcolm Gladwell By Jia Tolentino.
By William Stafford The New Yorker, December 20 , 1969P. 70 After we talked, after the moon rose, View Article By Alan Burdick By Larissa MacFarquhar By Phil Klay By Charles Bethea.
By Katha Pollitt The New Yorker, September 2 , 1985P. 36 Ghost feathers, angel bones, I se them rise View Article By Phil Klay By Troy Patterson By John Cassidy By Amy Davidson Sorkin.
