George W. Plunkitt

The Irish, above all people in the world, hates a traitor. <small>p. 35</small>

He eats corned beef and kosher meat with equal nonchalance, and it’s all the same to him whether he takes off his hat in the church or pulls it down over his ears in the synagogue. <small>p. 48</small>

The trouble is that the party’s been chasin’ after theories and stayin’ up nights readin’ books instead of studyin’ human nature and actin’ accordin’, as I've advised in tellin’ how to hold your district. <small>p. 88</small>

The hayseeds think we are like the Indians to the National Government—that is, sort of wards of the State, who don’t know how to look after ourselves and have to be taken care of by the Republicans of St. Lawrence, Ontario, and other backwoods counties. <small>p. 21</small>

Some young men think they can learn how to be successful in politics from books, and they cram their heads with all sorts of college rot. They couldn’t make a bigger mistake. <small>p. 7</small>

The most successful saloonkeepers don’t drink themselves and they understand that my temperance is a business proposition, just like their own. <small>p. 77</small>

There’s the biggest kind of a difference between political looters and politicians who make a fortune out of politics by keepin’ their eyes wide open. The looter goes in for himself alone without considerin’ his organization or his city. The politician looks after his own interests, the organization’s interests, and the city’s interests all at the same time. See the distinction? <small>p. 29</small>

The time is comin’ and though I’m no youngster, I may see it, when New York City will break away from the State and become a state itself. <small>p. 65</small>

I know more than one young man in past years who worked for the ticket and was just overflowin’ with patriotism, but when he was knocked out by the civil service humbug he got to hate his country and became an Anarchist. <small>p. 11</small>

Men ain’t in politics for nothin’. They want to get somethin’ out of it. <small>p. 37</small>

Putin’ on style don’t pay in politics. <small>p. 50</small>

It’s because a Brooklynite is a natural-born hayseed, and can never become a real New Yorker. <small>p. 41</small>

I think every man would be better off if he didn’t take any intoxicatin’ drink at all, but as men will drink, they ought to have good stuff without impoverishin’ themselves by goin’ to fancy places and without riskin’ death by goin’ to poor places. <small>p. 86</small>

The boys and men don’t get excited any more when they see a United States flag or hear “The Star-Spangled Banner.” They don’t care no more for firecrackers on the Fourth of July. And why should they? What is there in it for them? <small>p. 14</small>

I know it’s an awful temptation, the hankerin’ to show off your learnin’. I’ve felt it myself, but I always resist it. I know the awful consequences. <small>p. 53</small>