The New Yorker The Girl Who Fixed the Umlaut verified_publisherThe New Yorker - Nora Ephron"'I can’t really go on without an umlaut,' Blomkvist said. 'We’re in Sweden.'” (Humor from the archive.) There was a tap at the door at five in the morning. She woke up. Shit. Now what? She’d fallen asleep...
The New Yorker The Very Comical Lament of Pyramus and Thisbe verified_publisherThe New Yorker - Susan Sontag“THISBE: You see? Even you can feel rueful. An American artist warned me last year, You’ll miss this wall.” (Humor from the archive.) (An Interlude)WALL: Thus have I, Wall, my part dischargèd so;And being...
The New YorkerPlaywrights LGA—ORD verified_publisherThe New Yorker - Ian Frazier“Those of you on the left side of the aircraft will only see the vastness of eternal emptiness without end…” (Humor from the archive.) Then, Beckett decided to become a commercial pilot . . . .“I think...
The New YorkerCommuting Across the Street and Into the Grill verified_publisherThe New Yorker - E. B. White“This is my last and best and true and only meal, thought Mr. Pirnie.” (Humor from the archive.) This is my last and best and true and only meal, thought Mr. Pirnie as he descended at noon and swung east...
The New Yorker The American Literary Scene verified_publisherThe New Yorker - James Thurber“Some American writers who have known each other for years have never met in the daytime or when both were sober.” (Humor from the archive.) I have but now returned to England, and to my tranquil pen,...
