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

Music or the color of the sea are easier to describe than the taste of one of these Armoricaines.

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.

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.

Rome is ... an impossible compounding of time, in which no century has respect for any other and all hit you in a jumble at every turn.

Shame can be self-indulgence too.

Doubt remains a luxury I won't do without.