New York was no mere city. It was instead an
infinitely romantic notion,
the mysterious nexus of all love and money and power,
the shining and perishable dream itself. To thinkof
'living'there was to reduce the miraculous to the
mundane; one does not 'live'at Xanadu. Joan Didion 'Goodbye To All That', collected in Slouching
Towards Bethlehem (1968).