We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.
Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean
But I hate things all fiction... there should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric - and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.
'Tis very certain the desire of life prolongs it.
Bologna is celebrated for producing popes, painters, and sausage.