Italy, and the spring and first love all together should suffice to make the gloomiest person happy.
I love places that have an incredible history. I love the Italian way of life. I love the food. I love the people. I love the attitudes of Italians.
In Rome, the statues, in Paris, the paintings, and in Prague, the buildings suggest that pleasure can be an education.
Italians know that what matters is style, not fashion. Italian style does not have social or age boundaries.
To know how to grow old is the master-work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living.
Tuscany is full of beautiful landscapes where you can strike up a friendship with the solitude and the silence.
The trouble with eating Italian food is that five or six days later you're hungry again.
Feeling like I'm in a scene from 'Eat Pray Love', but mostly just focusing on the 'Eat' part.