the islands of Italy combine all the elements - fire, water, earth, and air - and that is irresistible.

There is something worse than dying, and that is humiliation - at least so it seemed to me.

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

to have a crisis, and act upon it, is one thing. To dwell in perpetual crisis is another.

Violence is its own anesthetist. The numbness it induces feels very much like calm.

I don't think I know a single woman who knows what she looks like.

Unhappiness makes beggars or accountants of us all.