'Chapter One. He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion.' Uh, no, make that, 'He... romanticised it all out of proportion. Now... to him... no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin.' Ahhh, now let me start this over...
opening narration to Woody Allen's Manhattan (1979)