What I want is so simple I almost can't say it: elementary kindness.

Perhaps growing up meant we put our knives away and feigned ignorance of the damage.

Some of us know how we came by our fortune and some of us don't; but we wear it all the same

I have my own sheep and I literally sheer the sheep and knot sweaters for friends and family from scratch.

You could love your crazy people, even admire them, instead of resenting that they're not self-sufficient.

Watching Italians eat (especially men, I have to say) is a form of tourism the books don't tell you about. They close their eyes, raise their eyebrows into accent marks, and make sounds of acute appreciation. It's fairly sexy. Of course I don't know how these men behave at home, if they help with the cooking or are vain and boorish and mistreat their wives. I realized Mediterranean cultures have their issues. Fine, don't burst my bubble. I didn’t want to marry these guys, I just wanted to watch. (p. 247)

A breeze shook rain out of new leaves onto their hair, but in their pursuit of eternity they never noticed the chill.