England is a country where people stay exactly as they are. The soul does not receive the slightest jolt.

Italy is a country which is willing to submit itself to the worst governments. It is, as we know, a country ruled by disorder, cynicism, incompetence and confusion. Nevertheless we are aware of intelligence circulating in the streets like a vivid bloodstream.

The course of our lives follows ancient and immutable laws, with an ancient, changeless rhythm. Dreams never come true, and the instant they are shattered, we realize how the greatest joys of life lie beyond the realm of reality. The instant they are shattered we are sick with longing for the days when they flamed within us. Our fate spends itself in this succession of hope and nostalgia.

You aren't ill: it is just that you are made of second-rate materials

But the English do not know what surprise is. No one ever turns his head to look at anyone else in the street.

And we are a people without tears. The things that moved our parents do not move us at all.

Every day silence harvests its victims. Silence is a mortal illness.