Quotes About Italian

If hell did exist, which Jackson was sure it did, it would be governed by a committee of fifteen-year-old Italian boys on bikes.

Her papa called her 'chiacchere' because he said she chattered away all day, just like a magpie. He had all sorts of funny names for her: 'fiorellina', my little flower; 'abelie', which meant honeysuckle; and 'topolina', my sweet little mouse. Margherita's mother only called her 'piccolina', my little one, or 'mia cara Margherita,' my darling daisy.

In fact, it is amazing how much European films - Italian, French, German and English - have recovered a certain territory of the audience in their countries over the last few years.

Melody is the essence of music. I compare a good melodist to a fine racer, and counterpointists to hack post-horses; therefore be advised, let well alone and remember the old Italian proverb: Chi sa più, meno sa—Who knows most, knows least.

Ma il comunismo, Steve, qui non attaccherà mai, te lo dico io, non solo perchè ci stiamo noi, ma perchè gli italiani sono troppo pigri, gli piace troppo vendersi il futuro per arrangiare il presente, guadagnarsi la giornata e ingravidare tutte le femmine che toccano. No, Steve, niente comunismo qua. Troppa fatica.

If you were a man, your ladyship, I would cordially horsewhip you for that remark. As you are not, I will simply bid you farewell and leave you to your fresh and obviously debilitating grief.' He said this last with a contemptuous glance at the Italian books piled on my desk and strode from the room.

Italian men are like show poodles. Sometimes they look so good I want to applaud.

To my taste, the men in Rome are ridiculously, hurtfully, stupidly beautiful. More beautiful even than Roman women, to be honest. Italian men are beautiful in the same way as French women, which is to say-- no detail spared in the quest for perfection. They're like show poodles. Sometimes they look so good I want to applaud.

I felt a glimmer of happiness when I started studying Italian, and when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt-this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight

Until-as often happened during those first months travel, whenever I would feel such happiness-my guilt alarm went off. I heard my ex-husband's voice speaking disdainfully in my ear: So this is what you gave up everything for? This is why you gutted our entire life together? For a few stalks of asparagus and an Italian newspaper? I replied aloud to him: First of all, I said, I'm very sorry, but this isn't your business anymore. And secondly, to answer you question...yes.

I want to learn how to speak Italian. For years, I'd wished I could speak Italian--a language I find more beautiful than roses :)

The last line of the Divine Comedy, in which Dante is faced with the vision of God Himself, is a sentiment that is still easily understandable by anyone familiar with so-called modern Italian. Dante writes that God is not merely a blinding vision of glorious light, but that He is, most of all, l'amour che move il sole e l'altre stelle...'The love that moves the sun and the other stars.

You know, it's a funny thing. The only Romance language Felipe doesn't happen to speak is Italian. But I go ahead and say it to him anyway, just as we're about to jump. I say: 'Attraversiamo.' Let's cross over.

Italian men are beautiful in the same way as French women, which is to say - no detail spared in the quest for perfection.

In return, Giovanni told me that empathizing Italians say L'ho provato sulla mia pelle, which means 'I have experienced that on my own skin.' Meaning, I have also been burned or scarred in this way, and I know exactly what you're going through.

Há uma piada italiana muito engraçada sobre um homem pobre que vai todos os dias à igreja rezar diante da estátua de um grande santo, implorando: «Querido santo, por favor, por favor, por favor... dá-me a graça de ganhar a lotaria.» Este lamento continua durante meses. Por fim, a estátua exasperada ganha vida, olha para ele e diz com um ar fatigado: «Meu filho, por favor, por favor, por favor... compra um bilhete.»

Tiramisu for desert.

To Those Who Appreciate Wistaria and Sunshine. Small mediaeval Italian Castle on the shores of the Mediterranean to be Let furnished for the month of April. Necessary servants remain. Z, Box 1000, The Times.

Chicken Puttanesca Pasta Bake

When I write in Italian - this is just the metaphor that came to me immediately, and I really think this is what it is - I feel like I'm writing with my left hand. Because of that weakness, there is this enormous freedom that comes with it.

I like the Rockabilly look. My background is half Italian, half French. I wear cowboy boots and jeans.

I have always played cards during training camps. I used to play Italian card games, though. I rarely played poker.

Poland is my home country but in go-karts, Formula Renault and Formula 3, I always raced for Italian teams and spent over a year living close to Monza, so this whole area holds good memories for me.

If someone thinks the course of Italian politics will become anti-European, against an open society, against trade, or populist, as they say today, the facts will prove them wrong.