...the Tourist Venice Is Venice.

The Labor Of Keeping House Is Labor In Its Most Naked State, For Labor Is Toil That Never Finishes, Toil That Has To Be Begun Again The Moment It Is Completed, Toil That Is Destroyed And Consumed By The Life Process

The American Character Looks Always As If It Had Just Had A Rather Bad Haircut, Which Gives It, In Our Eyes At Any Rate, A Greater Humanity Than The European, Which Even Among Its Beggars Has All Too Much A Professional Air.

Like Michelangelo And Cellini, Florentines Of Every Station Are Absorbed In Acquiring Real Estate: A Little Apartment That Can Be Rented To Foreigners; A Farm That Will Supply The Owner With Oil, Wine, Fruit, And Flowers For The House.

Leisure Was The Sine Qua Non Of The Full Renaissance. The Feudal Nobility, Having Lost Its Martial Function, Sought Diversion All Over Europe In Cultivated Pastimes: Sonneteering, The Lute, Games And Acrostics, Travel, Gentlemanly Studies And Sports, Hunting And Hawking, Treated As Arts.

Whenever In History, Equality Appeared On The Agenda, It Was Exported Somewhere Else, Like An Undesirable.