Every house we have lived in, every building to which our hands have lent their work, belongs to us by virtue of love or of regret.

The real reason women fall in love abroad is not that they are free of domestic inhibitions but that they translate their love of stone and place into love of flesh. ... Is this true?

Belief sometimes precedes understanding; faith sometimes precedes scientific evidence.

One can be tired of Rome after three weeks and feel one has exhausted it; after three months one feels that one has not even scratched the surface of Rome; and after six months one wishes never to leave it.

All our loves are contained in all our other loves.

There are no original ideas. There are only original people.

One feels a quickening of the pulse when one crosses a border.