Italian Quotes

“Amor, ch'al cor gentile ratto s'apprende
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e 'l modo ancor m'offende.

Amor, che a nullo amato amar perdona,
Mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,
Che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona..."

"Love, which quickly arrests the gentle heart,
Seized him with my beautiful form
That was taken from me, in a manner which still grieves me.

Love, which pardons no beloved from loving,
took me so strongly with delight in him
That, as you see, it still abandons me not...”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

“Each of us is a book waiting to be written, and that book, if written, results in a person explained.”
― Thomas M. Cirignano, The Constant Outsider: Memoirs of a South Boston Mechanic

“Nella vita: chi non risica, non rosica," he said finally, his voice quiet. "In life: nothing ventured, nothing gained. My mom used to tell us that. It's been a long time, but I can still hear her saying it.”
― J.M. Darhower, Sempre

“Attraversiamo (meaning "Lets cross over" in Italian)”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

“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.”
― Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

“Noi leggeveamo un giorno per diletto
Di Lancialotto, come amor lo strinse;
Soli eravamo e senza alcun sospetto
Per più fiate gli occhi ci sospinse
Quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso;
Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse.
Quando leggemmo il disiato riso
Esser baciato da cotanto amante,
Questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,
La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante.
Galeotto fu il libro e chi lo scrisse:
Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante."

""We were reading one day, to pass the time,
of Lancelot, how love had seized him.
We were alone, and without any suspicion
And time and time again our eyes would meet
over that literature, and our faces paled,
and yet one point alone won us.
When we had read how the desired smile
was kissed by so true a lover,
This one, who never shall be parted from me,
kissed my mouth, all a-tremble.
Gallehault was the book and he who wrote it
That day we read no further.”
― Dante Alighieri

“Ho sceso, dandoti il braccio, almeno un milione di scale
e ora che non ci sei è il vuoto ad ogni gradino.
Anche così è stato breve il nostro lungo viaggio.
Il mio dura tuttora, né più mi occorrono
le coincidenze, le prenotazioni,
le trappole, gli scorni di chi crede
che la realtà sia quella che si vede.

Ho sceso milioni di scale dandoti il braccio
non già perché con quattr'occhi forse si vede di più.
Con te le ho scese perché sapevo che di noi due
le sole vere pupille, sebbene tanto offuscate,
erano le tue.”
― Eugenio Montale, Satura, 1962-1970: Poems

“Quali occhi dovrei cercare per trovare l’ultima risposta irragionevole?”
― Suman Pokhrel

“I never thought meeting you would be this boring. I thought we'd put our Italian emotion into gear and scream the place down. I never expected indifference.”
― Melina Marchetta, Looking for Alibrandi

“sticks and stones might break your bones, but cement pays homage to tradition.”
― Estelle Getty

“As our larynxes descended, we were able to make sounds with our mouths in new and far more expressive ways. Verbal language soon overtook physical gesturing as the primary means of communication for all human beings except Italians. (Earth (The Book), p. 36)”
― Jon Stewart

“Perché c’è un ordine segreto.
I libri non puoi metterli a caso.
L’altro giorno ho riposto Cervantes accanto a Tolstoj.
E ho pensato: se vicino ad Anna Karenina c’è Don Chisciotte, di sicuro quest’ultimo farà di tutto per salvarla.”
― Ettore Scola

“Addio, Dann. Addio, piccolo signor Rail, che mi hai insegnato la vita. Avevi ragione tu: non siamo morti. Non è possibile morire vicino a te. Perfino Mormy ha aspettato che tu fossi lontano per farlo. Adesso sono io che vado lontano. E non sarà vicino a te che morirò. Addio, mio piccolo signore, che sognavi i treni e sapevi dov'era l'infinito. Tutto quel che c'era io l'ho visto, guardando te. E sono stata ovunque, stando con te. È una cosa che non riuscirò a spiegare mai a nessuno. Ma è così. Me la porterò dietro, e sarà il mio segreto più bello. Addio, Dann. Non pensarmi mai, se non ridendo. Addio.”
― Alessandro Baricco, Castelli di rabbia

“Why don’t you purchase an Italian dictionary? I will assume the expense.”
“I have one,” she said, “but I don’t think it’s very good. Half the words are missing.”
“Half?”
“Well, some,” she amended. “But truly, that’s not the problem.”
He blinked, waiting for her to continue.
She did. Of course. “I don’t think Italian is the author’s native tongue,” she said.
“The author of the dictionary?” he queried.
“Yes. It’s not terribly idiomatic.”
― Julia Quinn, It's in His Kiss

“La giovane, che non era di ferro né di diamante, assai agevolmente si piegò ai piaceri dello abate.”
― Giovanni Boccaccio, The Decameron

“... il tutto in diverse sfumature di grigio, celeste, verde scuro, perché in base a una ricerca, questi sono i colori che la gente associa a "scienza e tecnologia" (il viola e il rosso evocano le arti, l'azzurro scuro sta a significare "qualità e/o merci scelte")...”
― Zadie Smith, White Teeth

“Secondo l'esperienza di Archie, qualunque cosa dotata di memoria lunga mantiene i rancori, e non va per niente bene tenere animaletti domestici con ragioni di rancore (quella volta mi hai dato il cibo sbagliato, quell'altra mi hai fatto il bagno).”
― Zadie Smith, White Teeth

“Then, I will be a real Italian girl, instead of a total American who still can't hear someone across the street to his friend Marco without wanting instinctively to yell back "Polo!”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

“La luna era ormai alta alta nel cielo, s'era rimpicciolita e pareva non volesse più aver che fare col mondo, tutta assorta nella contemplazione di quello che ci stava al di là. Al mondo, pareva che ormai mostrasse solo il sedere; e, da quel sederino d'argento, pioveva giù una luce grandiosa, che invadeva tutto.”
― Pier Paolo Pasolini, The Ragazzi

“She was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. She was fair skinned and golden haired, full-blood Italian. The air was suddenly filled with banana leaves. We started talking and my head started to spin. Cupid’s arrow had whistled past my ears before, but this time it hit me in the heart and the weight of it dragged me overboard.”
― Bob Dylan, Chronicles, Volume One

“He’s forbidden fruit in hot brooding Italian man form, and just like Eve before me, I can’t resist taking a bite or two.”
― Seanan McGuire, Midnight Blue-Light Special

“It shouldn't be here. This sedge grass is decorative bullshit he imported from Northern Asia. The lab spent two years modifying it to slot into our ecosystem, all so that the mountain would literally smell of honey. Terra di latte e miele, she said, mockingly. Thank god my father went into business, not poetry. He's far too much of a romantic. I laughed, incredulous at this portrait of my stiff employer, and Aida reddened. It is romantic, if you think about it. He planted the grass for my mother. She's one of those Catholic Koreans, painfully devout. You know. The promised land, Canaan, found after forty years of wandering the desert. The land of milk and honey.”
― C Pam Zhang, Land of Milk and Honey

“The praline layer smells richly of almonds.
The ice cream layer, made of cream flash frozen and then allowed to partially melt, looks rich and luxuriant. All of it speaks to the delicacy and deftness of the hand that made it!”
― Yūto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 10 [Shokugeki no Souma 10]

“ The citrusy tang of lemon floods the mouth!
At the same time, the rich aroma of almond tickles the nose!
Both flavors are seamlessly brought together with no bitterness or clashing at all!
It's sweet and mild and fragrant! I can feel it awakening the heart of a maiden within me!
"I chose a Biscuit Joconde for the sponge cake because it matched so well with the almond pralines. It gives even the cake layer the aroma of almonds, without disturbing the flavor balance in the least.”
― Yūto Tsukuda, 食戟のソーマ 10 [Shokugeki no Souma 10]

“Svi bi te vodili
na kraj sveta,
ja bih te vodio
na kraj mora,
jer je na kraju mora
Italija.”
― Djura Kelj, Mir More Ljubav

“For iron and pep, I wanted to make a cold lentil salad with a zingy orange-ginger vinaigrette, handfuls of chopped herbs, and slices of white peach. (The purple-green Puy lentils, more common than the orange ones in France, just seemed too dark for a summer salad.) After unpacking half the kitchen while standing, against my better judgement, on a kitchen chair, I ended up not with orange lentils, but with a bag of yellow split peas. That would have to do.
The split peas had been hiding up there for a while--- I'm pretty sure I bought them after a trip to Puglia, where we were served warm split-pea puree drizzled with wonderful glass-green olive oil and a grind of fresh pepper. Still hankering after a cold salad, I tried cooking the dried peas al dente, as I would the lentils, but a half hour later, where the lentils would have been perfect, the split peas were a chalky, starchy mess. I decided to boil on past defeat and transform my salad into the silky puree I'd eaten with such gusto in Italy.
When the peas were sweet and tender and the liquid almost absorbed, I got out the power tools. I'm deeply attached to my hand blender--- the dainty equivalent of a serial killer's obsession with chain saws. The orange-ginger vinaigrette was already made, so I dumped it in. The recipe's necessary dose of olive oil would have some lively company.
The result was a warm, golden puree with just enough citrus to deviate from the classic. I toasted some pain Poilâne, slathered the bread with the puree, and chopped some dill. My tartines were still lacking a bit of sunshine, so I placed a slice of white peach on top.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Amore è libertà di essere e lasciar essere.”
― Mario Maruffi

“Chi non fa, non falla, angel, It means ‘he who makes no mistakes makes nothing.”
― Melinda Harlow

“Italy is not so much a country, but an epic poem continuously being written.”
― Pietros Maneos

“Saro, a chef, had always said he married an American, an African American woman, who had the culinary soul of an Italian. In his mind, I was Italian the way all people should be Italian: at the table. Which to him meant appreciating fresh food, forging memories and traditions while passing the bread and imbibing local wine.”
― Tembi Locke, From Scratch: A Memoir of Love, Sicily, and Finding Home