I want to write poems on your skin with my lips.
The death of dogma is the birth of morality.
Come fai a mancarmi se non abbiamo nemmeno ricordi?
Quando due hanno dormito insieme è un’altra cosa, ci si ritrova al mattino a riaffiorare entrambi dallo stesso sonno, si è pari.
Each of us needs something of an island in his life—if not an actual island, at least some place, or space in time, in which to be himself, free to cultivate his differences from others.
No - my sweet Fanny - I am wrong. I do not want you to be unhappy - and yet I do, I must while there is so sweet a Beauty - my loveliest my darling! Good bye! I kiss you - O the torments!