I Repeat, Whether We Be Italians Or

God Knows Better Than We Do What We Need.

To Give Thanks In Solitude Is Enough. Thanksgiving Has Wings And Goes Where It Must Go. Your Prayer Knows Much More About It Than You Do.

I Write With One Hand, But I Fight With Both.

Everything Being A Constant Carnival, There Is No Carnival Left.

Who Then Understands The Reciprocal Flux And Reflux Of The Infinitely Great And The Infinitely Small, The Echoing Of Causes In The Abysses Of Being, And The Avalanches Of Creation?