“All the women are there because they’re the best at their job,” Nicolle Wallace said. “It’s this critical mass of women at the top of their fields and every one of them are having incredible success with the viewers and breaking stories.”
“We had no idea what it would become,” Mr. Todras-Whitehill said. “But after our viral launch we suddenly didn’t have the 20,000 people we expected, but 200,000 expecting us to help them taking back the House. I knew that we would have to transform the organization into a professional one capable of delivering on that promise.”
Basically written off by many of his publishing peers when he left Random House nine years ago,
Mr. Rubin is back on top with Henry Holt. The reason? A certain book about the White House.
“I am the same on TV as a guest as I am as a host, as I was a White House communications director, as I was Jeb Bush’s spokesperson,” she said. “I don’t speak any differently. I don’t hold any different views ideologically. I don’t hold back.”
“The election of Nixon would be death to the blacks,” Robinson said.
...having been spared President Trump’s tweetstorms, baseball found itself once again offstage, happily content to stay away from bigger conversations about race and social justice, about the real meaning of American sports in America.
“I’ve caught flak for it, and I’ve been surprised by the vitriol,” Mr. Overstreet said. “When they try to make an argument, it’s enough for people to just say, ‘Benghazi,’ and that’s the end of it. It’s so visceral. It’s not based on fact.”
“If you vote for Trump, I will divorce you and move to Canada,” she recalled telling him. He tried to laugh it off.
When the last presidential race was in its early stages, Katie Glueck was a senior at Northwestern University. Now covering the Ted Cruz campaign for Politico, Ms. Glueck, 26, belongs to a select group of millennial reporters who have a front-row seat to the greatest political show on earth.
An ostensible victory for the Tea Party, John Boehner’s sudden exit left congressional Republicans to inherit the wind—and the rest of us wondering if the former Speaker was smarter than everyone thought.
Roger J. Stone Jr., a longtime Republican political operative who doesn’t mind playing rough, is back in the spotlight. And that’s how he likes it.
As New York's mayor looks beyond politics and business, how far can the billionaire push his philanthropy and urban ideas?
Mitt Romney, the governor of Massachusetts, loves data, hates waste, and reveres Dwight Eisenhower. He's also the Next Big Thing in the Republican Party. But can anyone so clean-cut, so pure of character, and (by gosh!) so square overcome the "two Ms"—Mormonism and Massachusetts—to be our next president?
“Can you imagine if Richard Nixon had not been president?” Mitt Romney said. “Instead it would have been my dad. We wouldn’t have had Watergate. Vietnam would have been handled in a different way and I think it would have been a very different nation.”
DETROIT -- On a steely cold Saturday morning, Debbie Dingell walks into a local UAW hall choked with people looking for answers. Tuesday's Michigan presidential primary -- one not recognized by the Democratic National Committee -- is only days away, and Democrats from the 13th Congressional District have assembled to ask what will happen when they walk into a polling booth where neither Barack Obama nor John Edwards is on the ballot.
To understand the shifting tectonics of American politics, look no further than cable's high priest of populism, Lou Dobbs.
NEW YORK Inside the Park Avenue office of 38-year-old lawyer and Democratic heavyweight Bal Das, there are none of the usual artifacts of vanity. No grip-and-grin photos of him smiling brightly with Bill or Hillary Clinton, with Harold Ford Jr. or Dick Durbinor Ted Kennedy. Nor are there any hints of a family life -- no drawings by his son, no portraits of him and his wife holding each other closely at sunset at the home they still keep in Paris.
Bono sweeps into the bathroom that sits outside his downtown lobbying office, which is his base of operation when he comes to Washington every so often to try to save Africa.
MANCHESTER, N.H. -- Sickly. Weak. Feeble. Pick your choice.
Sarah Huckabee has known her father, Mike, as many things. When she was little, he was the man whose wallet she could dig into with any sentence that began "Daddy, I need . . . ." Later, he was the man whose ascent to the Arkansas governor's office ripped her away from her friends and familiar surroundings the summer before she entered high school. Now, as his national field director, she's known him as a Republican Party candidate for president and charismatic speaker. But, she says, she's never known him as "hip."
DES MOINES -- "The negatives feel good," says Ed Rollins, the onetime wunderkind of the Reagan White House and now, at 64, the national campaign chairman for upstart Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee. "It's like being a boxer when you're young. To me, hitting somebody, knocking somebody down, is a great feeling. Firing out a negative ad just feels amazing."
On a snowy evening in December 1998, Sara M. Taylor, the daughter of a former pipe fitter at a John Deere plant in Iowa, came to a meeting at the Capital Hilton. Washington had grown dark and quiet, and the hotel restaurant was empty, save two people: Omaha financial guru Warren Buffett, and the man she was there to meet -- Karl Rove. Rove had just helped reelect George W. Bush as governor of Texas, and now Rove and Bush had begun the slow process of building a presidential run.
Walking into the FBI gym for a basketball game in 2003 or 2004 to play against John Ashcroft and his boys, you would have found it easy to dismiss the former attorney general's point guard, D. Kyle Sampson. He was, and, well, still is, short and balding and chubby, looking like a smaller Karl Rove.
At 9 a.m. on the very edge of the dusty, desolate collection of adobe homes and Vietnamese restaurants that seem to form this city, David Iglesias begins his run through the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. This is not easy terrain. The footing is terribly uneven. The altitude can be unbearable. At certain times one can hear the grumbling of mountain lions and the feasting of coyotes.
Eliot Spitzer, the attorney general of New York, has risen to national prominence by emulating Teddy Roosevelt and fearlessly taking on powerful interests. His aggressiveness has made him a lot of enemies—but it may propel him to the governor's mansion and beyond