Although I am a person who expected to be rooted in one spot forever, as it has turned out I love having the memories of living in many places.
Although he's slight, he has that wiry strength that seems to come more from will than muscle.
Always, I liked the infinitive 'to go.' Let's go, let's go. let's really go. 'Andare' was the first verb I learned to conjugate in Italian. 'Andiamo,' let's go, teh sound comes out at a gallop.
And feigned innocence, the vise that keeps women girls well into their sixties.
At a few times in my life, I’ve not been aware that I’ve just stepped onto a large X. Change might not be on my mind. Why change? I’ve always admired lives that flourish in place. The taproot reaches...
Now I find the stack of chapters I called Under Magnolia. Why, after many years, even open these flowered folders? Dare alla luce, the Tuscans say at the birth of a baby, to give to the light.
Falling in love with a book brings the same catapulting madness and zest that falling in love with a person brings.
Finally I caught on that what you buy today is ready—picked or dug this morning at its peak. This also explained another puzzle; I never understood why Italian refrigerators are so minute until I real...
He said he couldn't understand a world 'shameless and cruel enough to divide its people by color when color is in fact the sign of God's artistic genius.
If I lived here,...I have a feeling this place would take me.
Ik hou van de spannende periode van afwachten, van de geestelijke en fysieke sensatie van bochten als iets geheimzinnigs naar de oppervlakte van het bewustzijn zigzagt.
Italy's siren call lures us more and more.
I would like The Discovery of Poetry to be a field guide to the natural pleasures of language - a happiness we were born to have.
Like fanning through a deck of cards, my mind flashes on the thousand chances, trivial to profound, that converged to re-create this place. Any arbitrary turning along the way and I would be elsewhere...
Martin Buber said, 'All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveller is unaware.
My idea of heaven still is to drive the gravel farm roads of Umbria and Tuscany, very pleasantly lost.
Naguib Mahfouz’s Palace Walk, set in Cairo, a
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