Madame....gloatingly savored her words as earlier she had savored her pig's trotter.

If each one of us could make just one other happy, the whole world would know happiness.

The lake and the mountains have become my landscape, my real world.

I'm a bit like a sponge. When I'm not writing I absorb life like water. When I write I squeeze the sponge a little - and out comes, not water but ink.

For 30 years I have tried to make it understood that there are no criminals.

The fact that we are I don't know how many millions of people, yet communication, complete communication, is completely impossible between two of those people, is to me one of the biggest tragic themes in the world

I saw Mussolini tirelessly contemplate a parade of thousands of young men.