A sort of melancholy, and regret, seizes us every time we meet a sophisticated, adulterated idiot. Oh the nice fools of yestertime! Genuine, natural. Like homemade bread.

All of Sicily is a dimension of the imagination.

A sort of melancholy, and regret, seizes us every time we meet a sophisticated, adulterated idiot. Oh the nice fools of yestertime! Genuine, natural. Like homemade bread.

I hate and detest Sicily in so far as I love it, and in so far as it does not respond to the kind of love I would like to have for it.

The truth is at the bottom of a well. You look in a well, and you see the sun or the moon, but if you jump in, there's no longer the sun or the moon; there's the truth. Leonardo Sciascia

The best thing on translation was said by Cervantes: translation is the other side of a tapestry.