New York City is a place that holds a special charm for many. It is a city that never sleeps, a city full of life and energy.

For those who are lovers of New York, this very short love letter to the city is a must-read. It captures the essence of what makes New York so special.

The letter might mention the bright lights of Times Square, the hustle and bustle of the streets, or the beautiful skyline. It could talk about the diverse cultures and people that call New York home.

Reading this love letter is like taking a virtual tour of the city. It allows you to experience the magic and wonder of New York, even if you are not there in person.

So, if you are a lover of New York, or if you simply want to know more about this amazing city, be sure to read this very short love letter. It will surely touch your heart and make you fall in love with New York all over again.

Fine for quickly blasting through at the bookstore.

One reads nicely written words and doesn't learn much that isn't implacably paved all over the place. It seems as if the knowledge is already there, waiting to be discovered. And now, rather fixed in an era that looks enviably simple, with excerpts such as:

[…] But the city makes up for its hazards and its deficiencies by supplying its citizens with massive doses of a supplementary vitamin - the sense of belonging to something unique, cosmopolitan, mighty and unparalleled.

New Yorkers temperamentally do not crave comfort and convenience - if they did they would live elsewhere. They are drawn to the energy and excitement of the city, the constant flow of people and ideas. It is this sense of being part of something bigger that keeps them coming back, despite the challenges and difficulties.

Perhaps it is this unique combination of the written word and the urban experience that makes the bookstore such a special place. It is a haven for those who seek knowledge and inspiration, a place where they can escape from the chaos of the city and immerse themselves in a world of their own.

So the next time you find yourself in a bookstore, take a moment to slow down and appreciate the words on the page. You might just discover something new and wonderful.

EB White is truly a master of writing.

In this concise book, he delves into numerous aspects of Manhattan with great detail. Published in the mid-twentieth century, many of his observations now seem like distant memories of a bygone era.

His reminiscences of brand and building names, his remarks on shows and restaurants, and even tips on where to catch a train or hitch a mare are all firmly before my time.

As a resident of Nuuk, Greenland, I am intrigued by the sheer number of people who inhabit that small island. Here, I might偶尔 catch a glimpse of an Arctic wolf or a reindeer, but I have never witnessed a Broadway show like “Annie Get Your Gun” with Bernadette Peters or Ethel Merman (whoever they may be). I like to think that I can do many things better than they can in Nuuk, so there, Mr. White.

They appear to have countless tall buildings in NYC, while here in Nuuk, each town is only permitted to build two structures, and the height is restricted to that of a double igloo, one placed on top of the other. That's approximately six feet high, which is my height when I am reborn next time.

Well, it's noon and it's starting to get darker. A big shout out to my friend for the recommendation. One day, if I chop enough ice and row my boat swiftly enough, I hope to visit this place called New York City.

Perhaps I could meet a nice girl, dance to some unfamiliar music, and taste my very first knish, whatever that might be.

The governor came to town.

I heard the siren scream, but that was all there was to that—an eighteen-inch margin again.

A man was killed by a falling cornice. I was not a party to the tragedy, and again the inches counted heavily.

I mention these merely to show that New York is peculiarly constructed to absorb almost anything that comes along (whether a thousand-foot liner out of the East or a twenty-thousand-man convention out of the West) without inflicting the event on its inhabitants.

So that every event is, in a sense, optional.

The quality in New York that insulates its inhabitants from life may simply weaken them as individuals.

Perhaps it is healthier to live in a community where, when a cornice falls, you feel the blow; where, when the governor passes, you see at any rate his hat.

In New York, the hustle and bustle of the city seem to create a bubble around its residents.

The comings and goings of important figures like the governor or the occurrence of tragic events like the falling cornice often pass by with little real impact on the daily lives of the people.

This insulation, while it may provide a sense of detachment and protection, could potentially have a negative effect on the individuals.

It may make them less sensitive to the world around them and less able to truly experience and engage with life's events.

Living in a community where one feels the direct impact of such happenings might offer a more fulfilling and meaningful existence.

This short piece is truly the ideal thing to peruse on a spring Sunday in Central Park. And that's precisely what I did!

It offers a profound reflection on life in New York. It presents keen observations about the significance of the city to both those who have made it their home and those who journey from afar to experience its allure.

It provides a wonderful and enjoyable glimpse into the New York of bygone eras, while also highlighting the enduring traits that continue to define the city today. It's a captivating exploration that invites readers to engage with the unique essence of New York and its rich tapestry of experiences.

Whether you're a lifelong New Yorker or a curious visitor, this piece is sure to resonate and leave you with a deeper appreciation for the city that never sleeps.

The quality in New York that insulates its inhabitants from life may simply weaken them as individuals.

Yorkers, for creation is in part merely the business of forgoing the great and small distractions.

Many people who have no real independence of spirit depend on the city's tremendous variety and sources of excitement for spiritual sustenance and maintenance of morale.

This is not so much personal menace as universal.

In New York, the very trait that shields its residents from the full brunt of life might paradoxically have a debilitating effect on them as individuals. The people of York, when it comes to creation, to some extent, are engaged in the act of sacrificing both the significant and the minor distractions. There are numerous individuals lacking true spiritual independence who rely on the city's vast diversity and plethora of exciting sources for their spiritual nourishment and to uphold their morale. This phenomenon is not just a personal threat but rather a universal one that pervades the city and its inhabitants.

**New York: A City of Endless Allure**

New York is a city like no other. It is a place where dreams are made and broken, where art and commerce collide, and where people from all walks of life come together.

FAV QUOTES:

No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.

This city is the concentrate of various aspects such as art, commerce, sport, religion, entertainment, and finance. It brings together the gladiator, the evangelist, the promoter, the actor, the trader, and the merchant in a single compact arena. The unexpungeable odor of the long past clings to its lapel, making you feel the vibrations of great times and tall deeds, of queer people and events and undertakings wherever you are in the city.

New York blends the gift of privacy with the excitement of participation. It succeeds better than most dense communities in insulating the individual (if they desire it, and almost everyone does) against the enormous, violent, and wonderful events that occur every minute.

Roughly speaking, there are three New Yorks. The first is the New York of those born here, who take the city for granted and accept its size and turbulence as natural and inevitable. The second is the New York of the commuter, the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. The third is the New York of the person born elsewhere who comes to the city in search of something. 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 settlers give it passion.

The city is like a poem, compressing all life, all races and breeds, into a small island and adding music and the accompaniment of internal engines. Manhattan, without a doubt, is the greatest human concentrate on earth, a poem whose magic is comprehensible to millions of permanent residents but whose full meaning will always remain elusive.

Manhattan has been forced to expand skyward due to the lack of any other direction for growth, which is responsible for its physical majesty. It is to the nation what the white church spire is to the village, the visible symbol of aspiration and faith, the white plume indicating that the way is up.

By rights, New York should have destroyed itself long ago due to various reasons such as panic, fire, rioting, or the failure of a vital supply line in its circulatory system. However, the city compensates for its hazards and deficiencies by providing its citizens with a massive dose of a supplementary vitamin - the sense of belonging to something unique, cosmopolitan, mighty, and unparalleled.

Each area in New York is like a city within a city within a city. The city is always full of young worshipful beginners - young actors, aspiring poets, ballerinas, painters, reporters, singers - each relying on their own brand of tonic to stay alive and each with their own stable of giants.

The collision and intermingling of these millions of foreign-born people representing so many races and creeds make New York a permanent exhibit of the phenomenon of one world. To a New Yorker, the city is both changeless and changing.

Compared to other less hectic days, the city may be uncomfortable and inconvenient. But New Yorkers temperamentally do not crave comfort and convenience; if they did, they would live elsewhere.

All city dwellers must live with the stubborn fact of annihilation, and in New York, this fact is more concentrated due to the city's own concentration and because, of all targets, New York has a certain clear priority. In the mind of any perverted dreamer who might unleash the lightning, New York must hold a steady, irresistible charm.

New York is not a capital city in the traditional sense, but it is on its way to becoming the capital of the world. The buildings, as conceived by architects, will be like cigar boxes set on end. Traffic will flow in a new tunnel under First Avenue. Forty-seventh Street will be widened, and perhaps trucks will appear late at night to surreptitiously plant tall trees, their roots mingling with the intestines of the town. Once again, the city will absorb a congress of visitors almost without showing any sign of it.

A block or two west of the new City of Man in Turtle Bay, there is an old willow tree that presides over an interior garden. It is a battered tree, long suffering and much climbed, held together by strands of wire but beloved by those who know it. In a way, it symbolizes the city: life under difficulties, growth against odds, sap-rise in the midst of concrete, and the steady reaching for the sun. Whenever I look at it nowadays and feel the cold shadow of the planes, I think, "This must be saved, this particular thing, this very tree." If it were to go, all would go - this city, this mischievous and marvelous monument which not to look upon would be like death.

Although this book can be appreciated as it stands, it definitely behooves the reader of this exquisite glorified essay to have a working knowledge of the history of New York City, at least since the mid-19th-century days of Walt Whitman.

This knowledge is essential to fully appreciate the in-and-out flow of memories White conveys as he contemplates the contemporary New York of 1949.

He reflects on those things about the city which had changed, which had gone, and which qualities seemed timeless and ever-germane to the place.

Interestingly, the reader, too, can stand on the shoulders of White and contemplate the same things a half century later. We look back a half century just as he did.

The first thing you must know is that this book is written beautifully. When I reached the final page, I had chills. This was not only because near the end of it, he basically predicts 9/11 with pinpoint accuracy, not merely the act and means of it, but the sense of vulnerability and fear we have had since.

More than once, White proclaims New York a "concentrate" of more or less all that is good in Western and American culture. Indeed, this book is a remarkable concentrate itself. It crams an enormous amount of the city's flavor into 54 pages of precision, demonstrating the kind of density resulting from poetic prose penned by a writer who knows his subject fully.

E.B. White is in the Zone in this slim but ample effusion. It is written with the fervor of a lover and the persuasive elan of a passionate scholar wishing to persuade. If you want to quickly understand New York City and why it is loved, these fast, flowing, piquantly observant pages make it all very clear.

(KR@KY 2017)

This love letter to NYC is an absolute must-read.

If you have a deep affection for the city or simply desire to gain a better understanding of its unique atmosphere, then this piece is for you.

Even though it was penned way back in 1949, E.B. White's astute observations remain highly relevant in the present day.

One particularly striking aspect is the part where he speculates about planes flying into skyscrapers.

His words seem almost prophetic, considering the events that have unfolded in the years since.

White's description of the city's hustle and bustle, its vibrant energy, and its diverse population is both vivid and engaging.

It allows readers to envision the city as it was then and appreciate how it has evolved over time.

This love letter serves as a reminder of the enduring魅力 of NYC and the power of great writing to capture the essence of a place.

Whether you're a native New Yorker or someone who has never set foot in the city, this article is sure to leave a lasting impression.

White is an outstanding writer, and what sets him apart is his remarkable ability to observe.

He vividly communicates the diversity of communities in Manhattan. With singular skill, he shows how some of these communities are actually closer-knit than those in small towns.

When he divides the city into natives, commuters, and new arrivals, the distinctions he makes are highly understandable to me. I concur that many of those who commute to Manhattan from other places to work and then leave immediately fail to take in the unique charm of the city.

It is rather eerie that in 1949, White referred to the destructive power of airplanes and New York's allure as a target for attack.

This is truly one of the shortest yet excellent books I have ever had the pleasure of reading. It offers profound insights into the city and its people in a concise and engaging manner.

White's writing style is both accessible and thought-provoking, making this book a must-read for anyone interested in understanding the essence of Manhattan and the human experience within it.

The gift of loneliness and the gift of privacy.

I'm not entirely certain what precisely just took place. I picked up this book because I have officially stepped into the season of devouring everything short that I can lay my hands on in order to achieve my reading goal by the conclusion of the year (yes, I'm confessing to it). Having recently relocated to New York, this book struck a chord with me in numerous aspects. There are segments within it that are hilarious, deeply moving, thought-provoking, and even somewhat haunting (perhaps even a little creepy). It's as if the author has managed to capture the essence of the human experience in these concise pages. The gift of loneliness is explored, showing how it can be both a burden and a source of strength. And the gift of privacy is also delved into, highlighting its importance in a world where everything seems to be on display. As I turn the pages, I find myself reflecting on my own life and the choices I have made. This book has truly become a companion on my journey in this new city.

Every block or two, in most residential sections of New York, is a little Main Street.

No matter where you live in this bustling metropolis, you will find within a block or two a diverse array of shops and services. There's a grocery store to meet your daily food needs, a barbershop for a fresh haircut, a news stand to stay informed, a shoeshine to keep your shoes looking smart, a dry cleaner to handle your delicate garments, a flower shop to add a touch of beauty, a radio repair shop for those technical glitches, a movie house for entertainment, a stationer for all your writing and office supplies, a haberdasher for men's clothing and accessories, a tailor to customize your outfits, a drugstore for your health and wellness needs, a garage to take care of your vehicle, a tea room for a relaxing break, a saloon for a drink and socializing, a hardware store for home improvement projects, a liquor store for your favorite beverages, and a shoe repair shop to extend the life of your footwear.

In a book filled with beautiful illustrations of New York, I was particularly drawn to this simple yet vivid description of the humming vibrancy of the "city within a city" that is a New York neighborhood. It truly captured the essence and charm of these local communities.

What a great little book this was, offering a unique perspective on the heart and soul of New York City.