Going to New York from rural Maine is like entering a parallel universe. Up here, I forget that such things exist: noise and crowds and restaurants; stores open all night, and a bar on every corner. We stay with friends in Brooklyn, who still live like college boys, by which I mean that they decorate with beer and the stereo and find small reason to clean the bathroom. It's refreshing, and exhausting, to dip back into that lovable old life.
from ManahattaWalt WhitmanTrottoirs throng'd, vehicles, Broadway, the women, the shops and shows,A million people--manners free and superb--open voices--hospitality--the most courageous and friendly young men,City of hurried and sparkling waters! city of spires and masts!City nested in bays! my city!