“ It is a strange thing to love a city. In the end because no city is entirely knowable. What you love really are pieces of it. […] That is perhaps part of the allure, what brings us back to the cities we love: our desire to accumulate enough pieces so we can finally have it whole within us. But to love a city is also to love who we were at that time we fell in love.
—Junot Diaz, reflecting on Tokyo
