Snowmelt & Fresh Cream

“I have a door to all four winds. I have a golden door to the east—for love that never comes, I have a door for day and another for sadness, I have a door for death—that one is always open.”

“To be Venetian and to know how to live in Venice is an art. It is our way of living, so different from the rest of the world. Venice is built not only of stone but of a very thin web of words, spoken and remembered, of stories and legends, of eye-witness accounts and hearsay. To work and operate in Venice means first of all to understand its differences and its fragile equilibrium. In Venice we move delicately and in silence. And with great subtlety. We are very Byzantine people, and that is certainly not easy to understand.”

“Tonight I can smell the season the way it’s usually only possible to at the very first moments of its return, before you’re used to it, when you’ve forgotten its smell, then there it is back in the air and the flow of things shifting and resettling again.”

“Just the act of falling in love was to agree to a broken heart.”

“I love you; I don’t know how else to begin.

“Another life, as they say, though there is always only one, sound and mind so mysteriously aligned

“There she is [. . . ] like an eclipse you can’t keep yourself from glancing at, though you can feel the damage accruing.”

“And all the sorrows of one man’s life