"The primary cause of the first regular engraving being performed in New Haven appears to have been the battle or action at Lexington. When the news of this affair reached New Haven, Arnold, as has been stated, started with about forty volunteers. Among this number were Mr. Amos Doolittle, and a Mr. Earl, a portrait painter. These young men were, no doubt, powerfully excited by what they saw and heard at the scene of action, and on their return to New Haven endeavored to show to their excited countrymen pictorially the opening scenes of the great contest which had now fully begun."
"On September 23, 1779, Captain John Paul Jones fought a battle without parallel in naval history. Hitherto the contest upon the sea had been mainly a predatory warfare of privateers, aimed at the destruction of commerce and the plunder of merchant vessels. The young republic was without a navy proper. Called 'Pirate Jones' by the English, for retaliating on the coast of England for the atrocities committed on the coast of America, the captain of the Bon Homme Richard gallantly refused the sword of the surrending captain of the Serapis — but did take his ship."
"The great majority of photographs in this book are from the collection of the New Haven Colony Historical Society. But in order to give broader scope to this visual document of life in early Connecticut, other sources were used as well. These include the collection of Mrs. Edith LaFrancis (for all the striking photographs taken by George and Alvah Howes), the Sterling Memorial Library, Yale University (for selected scenes of life at early Yale)..."
"The first ascent of Mount Washington by a European settler, was by Darby Field, an Irish immigrant, who accomplished this difficult feat in 1642 from a southerly approach. Partly guided by Indians and with only primitive equipment at his disposal, he is thus alleged to be the originator of all Mount Washington ascensions."
"The exhibit was organized by Linda Lindroth, a New Haven photographer and assistant professor at Quinnipiac College, who lives across the street from East Rock. 'This exhibition is the product of a search for new spaces and new relationships within the city to show artwork,' says Lindroth, noting that it is the first time that the historical society has hosted an exhibit by living photographers. In an essay in the exhibition catalogue, Amy L. Trout, curator at the New Haven Colony Historical Society, writes, 'More than geographical features, East and West Rocks are symbols of New Haven. As such, they carry meaning beyond what their physical presence implies.' The Rocks have served as a 'backdrop' in artworks documenting the changes in New Haven over the years, she notes."
"Numerous converging and intersecting railways, extensive manufactures, and a considerable West-India commerce, contribute to the life and wealth of this beautiful city. Its suburbs are adorned with tasteful villas, and afford inviting drives and charming prospects. Of principal interest among its suburban attractions are the crags known as East and West Rocks — two bold and striking bluffs of trap-rock, lifting themselves, in magnificent array of opposition, about four hundred feet out of the plain which skirts the city. Their geological origin was probably some anomalous volcanic convulsion; and their grim heights may have sentinelled, in remote ages of our planet, the flow of the Connecticut River between their august feet to the Sound."
"John said it was a pleasant evening, and she was a nice person, but he didn't get the impression that they were all that compatible with one another. Marilyn said they enjoyed each other's company, and she felt kind of in the middle, not either extreme, but it's too early to tell. John walked her back to her car, thanked her then shook her hand."
"A song-sparrow waited till late with its lay, then mingling, as sunshine and rain, his sweet vesper warble from birches and oak, fused thankfulness over the plain; the lashes of evening drooped over the blue; The lights from a train rumbled by; but day was at rest, as by mother-heart blest, a crescent-moon love-watching nigh. The picture returns like a vision from Faust, dissolves in the mem'ry of night."