Personal hatred and family affection are not incompatible; they often flourish and grow strong together.

The pale, cold light of the winter sunset did not beautify - it was like the light of truth itself.

Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.

One summer evening in the year 1848, three Cardinals and a missionary were dining together in the gardens of a villa in the Sabine hills, overlooking Rome.

Thea was still under the belief that public opinion could be placated; that if you clucked often enough, the hens would mistake you for one of themselves.

A soup like this is not the work of one man. It is the result of a constantly refined tradition. There are nearly a thousand years of history in this soup.

Love itself draws on a woman nearly all the bad luck in the world