This city never allowed itself to decay or degrade. It's wildly, intensely growing. It's a loud bright stinking mess. It takes strength from its thousands of cultures, and the thousands more that grow anew each day. It isn't perfect. It lies and cheats. It's no utopia and it ain't the mountain by a long shot — but it's alive
. I can't argue that.
"You said: Ill go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
You wont find a new country, wont find another shore.
This city will always pursue you. You will walk
the same streets, grow old in the same neighborhoods,
will turn gray in these same houses.
As youve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
youve destroyed it everywhere else in the world."
— The City, Constantin P. Cavafy