Let your fiction grow out of the land beneath your feet.
After all, the supreme virtue in all art is soul, perhaps it is the only thing which gives art a right to be.
To note an artist's limitations is but to define his talent.
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.
Where there is great love there are always miracles.
When kindness has left people, even for a few moments, we become afraid of them, as if their reason had left them.