A Quote by Mitch Kapor

No, my family is Russian, Georgian, via Ellis Island. — © Mitch Kapor
No, my family is Russian, Georgian, via Ellis Island.
'Daddy used to be a Georgian,' Stalin's son, Vasily, once said. Actually, the dictator didn't truly become Russian; he remained Georgian culturally. Yet he embraced the imperial mission of the Russian people.
When the Georgian army started this assault against the sleeping city of Tskhinvali, the Georgian peacekeepers, serving in one contingent with their Russian friends, joined the army and started killing the Russian comrades in arms.
I am the byproduct of an Ellis Island orgy, basically. I'm everything. I've got quite a mixture in me. I know a lot of it and I don't know some of it. I'm pretty mixed up, but mostly Russian and Irish.
In the new Georgia, Stalin is no longer Georgian. He's a Russian emperor.
I was with a Russian family, and I couldn't believe that the grandparents in Russia, first of all I was shocked and delighted to find that the Russian family that I'd been told was so different from the American family, was exactly the same.
I always remember to go on the Staten Island Ferry because it's the most amazing view of New York. And it's free! You see Ellis Island, and it conjures up something of that great moment: you know, the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. It's staggering.
When I go across the state, people are really asking the question, 'Who is up there fighting for us? Who is fighting for us at the state capital for the little guy out here, for the working Georgian, for the Georgian family?'
I live on a lonely culinary island, built on (very thin) bedrock consisting of things I know, or believe, my family will eat. It is a small island. Fortunately, nachos are on that island with me, and nothing gets my family fired up like nachos for lunch.
My grandparents, they came through Ellis Island in 1923, and you know, I'd heard all the stories.
The thing I love about Vegas is that it's a melting pot. It's like working Ellis Island.
El Paso in many ways is the Ellis Island for Mexico and much of Latin America.
At Ellis Island, I mean, you didn't go there if you arrived in first class. It was only the poorest, the people in the worst shape.
The part of Limerick we lived in is Georgian, you know, those Georgian houses. You see them in pictures of Dublin.
We have been protecting the lives of the Russian peacekeepers who had been attacked by their Georgian comrades, because there was a joint peacekeeping force.
Nonfiction writers are second-class citizens, the Ellis Island of literature. We just can't quite get in. And yes, it pisses me off.
My grandparents used to tell me stories about their trip to Ellis Island from Russia and life on the Lower East Side of New York.
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