There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence1 as natural and inevitable2. Second, there is the New York of the commuter3 the city that is devoured4 by locusts5 each day and spat6 out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York's high-strung disposition7, its poetical8 deportment, its dedication9 to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidarity10 and continuity, but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from Italy to set up a small grocery store in a slum, or a young girl arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity11 of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference: each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh eyes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf12 the Consolidated13 Edison Company.
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