“It is Fate that I am here,” persisted George. “But you can call it Italy if it makes you less unhappy.”

The idea that nations should love one another, or that business concerns or marketing boards should love one another, or that a man in Portugal should love a man in Peru of whom he has never heard -it is absurd, unreal, dangerous. The fact is we can only love what we know personally. And we cannot know much.

To trust people is a luxury in which only the wealthy can indulge; the poor cannot afford it.

Italy is such a delightful place to live in if you happen to be a man. There one may enjoy that exquisite luxury of Socialism--that true Socialism which is based not on equality of income or character, but on the equality of manners. In the democracy of the caffè or the street the great question of our life has been solved, and the brotherhood of man is a reality. But it is accomplished at the expense of the sisterhood of women.

I think you’re beautiful, the only beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I love your voice and everything to do with you, down to your clothes or the room you are sitting in. I adore you.

One doesn't come to Italy for niceness," was the retort; "one comes for life. Buon giorno! Buon giorno!

At night, when the curtains are drawn and the fire flickers, my books attain a collective dignity.