Harshness in the poet and pride in the orator make their refinement and culture seem but skin deep.
We note that Pompeii was a paradise built beside a crater.

The traveler tells us if we strike the rocky earth it rings hollow.

Close by the calm lake is a boiling spring.

In the very heart of the orange groves rises a column of smoke and steam.

"The mist of lava jars on the music of summer, the scent of sulphur mingles with the scent of roses." Not for a moment can the traveler forget that beneath all this opulence of color and fragrance rages a colossal furnace.