Night doesn't fall in Rome; it rises from the city's heart, from the gloomy little alleys and courtyards where the sun never gets much more than a brief look-in, and then, like the mist from the Tiber, it creeps over the rooftops and spreads up into the hills.
Caroline LlewellynA gritty grain of truth lay at the heart of most legends, she had told me, and the slow accretion of fiction hardened in layers around it.
Caroline Llewellyn