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Quote by Giuseppe Fava

“In fondo al dramma del Sud c'è questa nostra solitudine umana: ognuno di noi è debole poiché è solo; ed è solo poiché rifiuta di avere fiducia o speranza negli altri, poiché è orgogliosamente convinto di poterne fare a meno.”

Quote by Giuseppe Fava

Book:Processo alla Sicilia
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Processo alla Sicilia

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Giuseppe Fava

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“Al sorgere del sole le ombre umide della notte si ritiravano dal le falde deserte, lasciandovi pennellate azzurre; le messi ristorate frusciavano e gli uccelli vi svolazzavano in cerca di cibo. Il cielo acquisiva profondità e diventava blu intenso. Poi sbiancava, incandescente. Il sole a picco dominava e folgorava ogni cosa, inesorabile. Gli uccelli, stanchi e accecati dalla luce sfavillante, si rifugiavano dietro le pietre; erbe e piante ai bordi dei sentieri tratteneva no i profumi e abbassavano le foglie arse. Le ombre assetate della sera - lunghe, nette, rosse - risvegliavano insetti, uccelli e odori campestri. Il sole tramontava dietro le colline in una fantasmagorìa di rosso, giallo, amaranto, violetto. Poi la calma.”

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“It's mechanical," Leo said. "Maybe a doorway to the dwarfs' secret lair?" "Ooooo!" shrieked a nearby voice. "Secret lair?" "I want a secret lair!" yelled another voice from above. ... "If we had a secret lair," said Red Fur, "I would want a firehouse pole." "And a waterslide!" said Brown Fur, who was pulling random tools out of Leo's belt, tossing aside wrenches, hammers, and staple guns. "Stop that!" Leo tried to grab the dwarf's feet, but he couldn't reach the top of the pedestal. "Too short?" Brown Fur sympathized. "You're calling me short?" Leo looked around for something to throw, but there was nothing but pigeons, and he doubted he could catch one. "Give me my belt, you stupid-" "Now, now!" said Brown Fur. "We haven't even introduced ourselves. I'm Akmon, and my brother over there-" "-is the handsome one!" The red-furred dwarf lifted his espresso. Judging from his dilated eyes and maniacal grin, he didn't need any more caffeine. "Passolos! Singer of songs! Drinker of coffee! Stealer of shiny stuff!”

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“A man walks into a coffee shop. As the man talks across the counter, the coffee guy makes his coffee and sets the cup and saucer between them. But the man doesn’t drink it; he keeps talking, so the coffee gets cold, useless. The coffee guy pours it out and pulls another, sets it up. The man still can’t stop talking and the next one goes bad too. So the coffee guy throws that one out, makes another. And this goes on, see? You may think you’re the coffee guy in the parable, but you’re not —you’re the espresso. (It’s like that in parables.) You’re not for you. You’re someone else’s beverage. And God, the coffee guy, he’s going to keep remaking you again and again, as many times as it takes until you’re drinkable. God’s pulling the shots and he’s got standards.”

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“On the other hand, if the future is not the one you chose then you may have to use your willpower to obtain the future of your liking.”

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“Unlike Japan, Italy's cuisine has long centered on meat dishes. In their home province of Tuscany, duck, rabbit, and even boar would be served in the right season. I suspect that is how they learned how to butcher and dress a duck. The breast meat was glazed with a mixture of soy sauce, Japanese mustard, black pepper and honey to give it a strong, spicy fragrance... the perfect complement to the sauce. Duck and salsa verde. They found and enhanced the Japanese essence of both... ... to create an impressive and thoroughly Japanese dish!”

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“Pilgrims Tuscan reds and ochre hues Olive greens and skies of blue Sunlit valleys full of charm Secluded homestead and hilltop farm Over hills skim birds in flight Aromas whet the appetite Autumn rustle fills the air Revealing grace of trees laid bare Pathways meander through the vale Inviting travelers its height to scale Sunset rewards as evening ends And pilgrims to the night descend”

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“The sun still beats down warmly over the Sienese countryside in September, and the stubble left by harvest covers the fields with a sort of animal fur. It is one of the most beautiful countrysides in the world: God has drawn the curve of its hills with an exquisite freedom, and has given it a rich and varied vegetation among which the cypresses stand out like lords. Man has worked this earth to advantage and has spread his dwellings over it; but from the most princely villa to the humbles cottage they all have a similar grace and harmony with their ochre walls and curved tiles. The road is never monotonous; it winds and rises, only to descend into another valley between terraced fields and age-old olive groves. Both God and man have shown their genius at Siena.”

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