I've never studied Italian, I learned it through contact with people, reading children's books and watching cartoons. But now I can even tackle Dante.

You can say any sort of nonsense in Latin, and our feeble university men will be stunned, or at least profoundly confused. That’s how the popes have gotten away with peddling bad religion for so long, they simply say it in Latin.

"Well, when in Rome," said Jurgen, "one must be romantic."

And way up on the other side of a long area of grass, there’s an Italian gardner putting in some plants. He stops, waves, and shouts happily, “REzza ma LIa!” I call back, “RONte BALta!”, returning the greeting. He didn’t know I didn’t know, and I didn’t know what he said, and he didn’t know what I said. But it was OK! It was great! It works! After all, when they hear the intonation, they recognize it immediately as Italian — maybe it’s Milano instead of Romano, what the hell. But he’s an iTALian! So it’s just great. But you have to have absolute confidence. Keep right on going, and nothing will happen.

In the current situation it seems improbable that one could make a priest appreciate, especially at the beginning of his formation, the value of Latin as a language endowed with nobility of structure and words, able to foster a concise, rich, harmonious style, full of majesty and dignity, which allows for clarity and gravity, able to advance every form of culture, the humanitatis cultus, among peoples.

I studied Italian five hours a day for many months to ensure I could communicate with the players, media and fans. [Claudio] Ranieri had been in England for five years and still struggled to say ‘good morning’ and ‘good afternoon.'

(About pope Francis' s death) I use this word like you Italians do, as a compliment. He was a peasant, which is a man of the people, a man of the Earth.

Other priests, he knew, found an intense pleasure in the raw, salty dialect of peasant conversation. They picked up pearls of wisdom and experience over a farmhouse table or a cup of wine in a workingman's kitchen. They talked with equal familiarity to the rough-tongued whores of Trastevere and the polished signori of Parioli. They enjoyed the ribald humor of the fish market as much as the wit of a Cardinal's dinner table. They were good priests too, and they did much good for their people, with a singular satisfaction to themselves.

Learn to say no. It will be of more use to you than to be able to read Latin.

"One doesn't come to Italy for niceness," was the retort; "one comes for life. Buon giorno! Buon giorno!"

Italian in the mouth of Italians is a deep-voiced stream, with unexpected cataracts and boulders to preserve it from monotony. In Mr. Eager's mouth it resembled nothing so much as an acid whistling fountain which played ever higher and higher, and quicker and quicker, and more and more shrilly, till abruptly it was turned off with a click.

Si hoc signum legere potes, operis boni in rebus Latinis alacribus et fructuosis potiri potes! If you can read this sign, you can get a good job in the fast-paced, high-paying world of Latin!

Decididamente, los adultos son raros, pensó el principito durante el viaje

Rome got some peachy pastings when she tried to lick the Irish.