What is the fatal charm of Italy? What do we find there that can be found nowhere else? I believe it is a certain permission to be human, which other places, other countries, lost long ago.

Is a currency worth anything if no one wants it? We used to buy shoes in Italy. Remember?

As a seasoned insomniac, I knew sometimes the way to beat sleeplessness was to outwit it: to pretend you didn't care about sleeping. Then sometimes sleep became piqued, like a rejected lover, and crept up to try to seduce you.

Turning fifty ... is like flying: hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror.

Everyone's a little crazy when you get inside their head... it's only a matter of degree.

The best slave does not need to be beaten. She beats herself.

A concern with 'public morality' is - if not the last refuge of a scoundrel - the first foray of the fascist.