C.M. Martens

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He was allergic to the daily news. In New York City, things were happening all the time. Things that you were expected not only to be knowledgeable about, but on which you were expected to have an opinion that you could articulate at a moment’s notice. In fact, so many things were happening at such a rapid pace, they couldn’t come close to fitting them all in a single newspaper.
The Lincoln Highway
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