“…God knows, when spring comes to Paris the humbles mortal alive must feel that he dwells in paradise….it [is] the intimacy with which his eye rests upon the scene. It [is] his Paris. A man does not need to be rich, nor even a citizen, to feel this way about Paris. Paris is filled with poor people – the proudest and filthiest lot of beggars that ever walked the earth… And yet they give the illusion of being at home. It is that which distinguishes the Parisian from all other metropolitan souls.” Henry Miller