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.