What is there not to love about a city filled with idealists?
A city molded in marble and cool granite, shaped by utopia and good intentions, pushed around by the ignoramuses but championed by those who love it so.
A city daintily set upon a river plain, at the mercy of the tides and the mosquitoes and the leeches and the thieves.
A city still ready to love and live again, despite having its heart broken and its pockets ransacked over and over.
A city that wants to believe in the good of mankind, even as it keeps voting the asps into office, and holding them close to her breast.
What is there not to love about a city that is so much to so many, even as it's told over and over that it's nothing?
A city is only as great as the people in it.
Perhaps DC breaks even.