Rhoda Morgenstern Gerard: My name is Rhoda Morgenstern. I was born in the Bronx, New York in December, 1941. I’ve always felt responsible for World War II. The first thing I remember liking that liked me back was food. I had a bad puberty; it lasted 17 years. I’m a high school graduate. I went to art school. My entrance exam was on a book of matches. I decided to move out of the house when I was 24; my mother still refers to this as the time I ran away from home. Eventually I ran to Minneapolis, where it’s cold, and I figured I’d keep better. Now I’m back in Manhattan. New York, this is your last chance!
You don’t have to be born in New York City to be a New Yorker. You have to live here for six months. And if at the end of the six months you walk faster, you talk faster, you think faster, you’re a New Yorker.
Cora: I could send her over to my aunt, she could get to know New York.
Dowager Countess: Oh, I don’t think things are quite that desperate.
Can we actually “know” the universe? My God, it’s hard enough finding your way around in Chinatown.