Victoria Mayo

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All she’d notice was that some things were strange because they reminded her of Brooklyn and that other things were strange because they were so different from Brooklyn. “I guess there is nothing new, then, in the world,” decided Francie unhappily. “If there is anything new or different, some part of it must be in Brooklyn and I must be used to it and wouldn’t be able to notice it if I came across it.” Like Alexander the Great, Francie grieved, being convinced that there were no new worlds to conquer.
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
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