"It was pleasant to wake up in Florence, to open the eyes upon a bright bare room, with a floor of red tiles which look clean though they are not; with a painted ceiling whereon pink griffins and blue amorini sport in a forest of yellow violins and bassoons. It was pleasant, too, to fling wide the windows, pinching the fingers in unfamiliar fastenings, to lean out into sunshine with beautiful hills and trees and marble churches opposite, and close below, the Arno, gurgling against the embankment of the road... Over such trivialities as these many a valuable hour may slip away, and the traveller who has gone to Italy to study the tactile values of Giotto, or the corruption of the Papacy, may return remembering nothing but the blue sky and the men and women who live under it."
E.M Forster, A Room With A View
Because Garance is there right now. And I kind of miss it. And because I've never marveled at something before the way I marveled at Venice. And yes, I know that the quote is about Florence. But it's how I feel about Italy in general, I think. And A Room With A View is a beautiful novel. And now, I think I'm done.
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