Five months from now, when I'm complaining of heat and humidity, please remind me of my daily frigid slog across the lower Manhattan mountain ranges.
Behold, the majestic Alps of 6th Avenue! The remains of Sullivan Street are in there somewhere...
Here we have the magnificent Rockies of Prince Street. No paper delivery today. Or any time soon.
And who can ever forget the brooding West Broadway Carpathians?
And so we remained till the red of the dawn began to fall through the snow gloom. I was desolate and afraid, and full of woe and terror. But when that beautiful sun began to climb the horizon life was to me again.
-- Bram Stoker, Dracula