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 turbulence as natural and inevitable.
Second, there is the New York of the commuter –
the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat 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 disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the the settlers give it passion.
E.B. White
