To the sun Rome owes its underlying glow, and its air called golden - to me, more the yellow of white wine; like wine it raises agreeability to poetry.

That is partly why women marry - to keep up the fiction of being in the hub of things.

I do like Italian graves; they look so much more lived in.

I know that I have in my make-up layers of synthetic experiences, and that the most powerful of my memories are only half true.

Childish fantasy, like the sheath over the bud, not only protects but curbs the terrible budding spirit, protects not only innocence from the world, but the world from the power of innocence.

very young people are true but not resounding instruments.

Good general-purpose manners nowadays may be said to consist in knowing how much you can get away with.