Cats and monkeys; monkeys and cats; all human life is there.

Do not mind anything that anyone tells you about anyone else. Judge everyone and everything for yourself.

She had always been fond of history, and here [in Rome] was history in the stones of the street and the atoms of the sunshine.

She is written in a foreign tongue.

What is either a picture or a novel that is not character?

A solitary maple on a woodside flames in single scarlet, recalls nothing so much as the daughter of a noble house dressed for a fancy ball, with the whole family gathered around to admire her before she goes.

The black and merciless things that are behind the great possessions.