The so called white races are really pinko-grey.

We are all like Scheherazade's husband, in that we want to know what happens next.

If only the sense of actuality can be lulled-and it sleeps for ever in most historians-there is no passion that cannot be gratified in the past.

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.

Give, do not lend; after death who will thank you?

It isn't possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.

Love and understand the Italians, for the people are more marvellous than the land.