Obviously, if you don't love life, you can't enjoy an oyster.

It is like a party all the time; nobody has to worry about giving one or being invited; it is going on every day in the street and you can go down or be part of it from your window.

To be first-rate at anything you have to stake your all. Nobody's an artist 'on the side'.

Even a tourist can tell in a Roman street that he is in something and not outside of something as he would be in most cities. In Rome to go out is to go home.

The fresh start is always an illusion but a necessary one.

How smartly September comes in, like a racing gig, all style, no confusion.

The Roman form of serenade is to race a motorcycle motor under the girl's window, but mufflers are not common in any situation; the only things as dearly loved as a good noise are breakneck speed and eye-splitting lights, preferably neon - all expressions of well-being, like a huge belly-laugh.