From: The Hand of Mary Constable by Paul Gallico

"With the sunrise the big B.O.A.C. jet came pouring out of the east to fly down the white, surf-fringed beaches of Long Island and pick up in the morning haze the glorious towers of Manhattan, a million windows reflecting the fire of the orange sun....Before entering the approach path to Idlewild the pilot flew over the city, lining up with the silver of the river to give his passangers the treat of the great metropolis bathed in morning light...The airecraft banked and turned east once more, towards a vast plain of less impressive city blocks beyond which lay the sea and the glide path to the airport. Hero craned around for one more breathtaking, eye-filling glimps of the magic of Manhattan."