Achmed Abdullah,
The Broadway of It
(1920)
“ His fluttering soul, winging away from the clay of his body, realized, with infinite, rather helpless regret, that Broadway had won and that he had lost. Immediately after his death he could still feel Broadway creeping in from the corner like a stony jungle, overwhelming him with its rank exuberance of concrete and steel and pinchbeck stucco. ”
