I’ll starve to death someday, or freeze some winter night, or catch something that rots me away until the hospitals have to take me, even without money or an address. But I’ll sing and paint and dance and fuck and cry the city before I’m done, because it’s mine. It’s fucking mine. (7)
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Great cities are like any other living things, being born and maturing and wearying and dying in their turn. Duh, right? Everyone who’s visited a real city feels that, one way or another. All those rural people who hate cities are afraid of something legit; cities really are different. (7)
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The hissing air is eclipsed by the shouted road rage of hundreds of mouths. As he opens his mouth to shout with the, his cry is delight and the ecstasy of suddenly knowing that he isn’t an interloper. The city needs newcomers! He belongs here as much as anyone born and bred to its streets, because anyone who wants to be of New York can be! He is no tourist, exploiting and gawking and giving nothing but money back. He lives here now. That makes all the difference in the world. (47)
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“Like science fiction?… The many-worlds interpretation? Quantum physics? Is that what we’re talking about?” “Eh, if it wasn’t on Star Trek, I don’t know.” (165)
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And somewhere between the third floor and the fourth, where Padmini lives in Aishwarya’ s place, Manny gets it. This is just one building amid thousands in Jackson Heights–but here, in this four-story walk-up, is a microcosm of Queens itself. People, cultures, moving in and forming communities and moving on, endlessly. (194)
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Belonging is as quintessential to Staten Island as toughness is to the Bronx and starting over is to Queens and weathering change is to Brooklyn. (409)