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Updated: June 10, 2025
And then, if, by chance, one evening we go to the Galleria, and find it is not so, that you are like ourselves, we are glad." He began to laugh. "We are glad; we feel no longer at a disadvantage." Again he pressed Artois' arm gently. "But, amico mio, you are deceptive, you workers," he said. "You take us all in.
Pierre, however, had been particularly struck by the name of Consistorial-Advocate Morano, of whose position in the house Viscount de la Choue had thought proper to inform him in order to avert any unpleasant blunder. For thirty years past Morano had been Donna Serafina's amico.
And as to the expenses, you greatly overrate them, my dear." Women have as many inflections of voice to pronounce these words, My dear, as the Italians have to say Amico. I have counted twenty-nine which express only various degrees of hatred. "Well, you'll see," resumes Caroline, "I shall be sick, and you will pay the apothecary and the doctor as much as the price of a horse.
Seating myself carelessly at one of the little tables I turned over the newspaper, while he bustled about in haste to serve me. As he dusted and rubbed up a cup and saucer for my use, he said, briskly, "You have had a long voyage, amico? And successful fishing?"
"Then why didn't you come unto the balcony, amico mio?" "Because I thought you were street singers." "Davvero? Papa would be angry. And he is in a bad temper to-day anyhow." "Why?" "Well, I believe Gilda Mai is going to bring a causa against Viviano. Of course he won't marry her, and she never expected he could. Why, she used to be a milliner in the Toledo.
The new repertoire of the works of Liszt and Brahms and other composers demanded a different technic, a bigger technic. What exquisite joy it was to work for it. Yes, mio amico, work is the greatest intoxication, the greatest blessing, the greatest solace we can know. Therefore work, work, work.
"There, now!" interrupted Raoul, with a well-acted assumption of vulgar triumph; "I knew your eccellenza, when you came to look into it, would see the folly of saying that a vessel which was standing from Capri toward Ischia was going on any other course than northwest!" "But this is not the question, amico.
His recognition as a poet has been hearty enough to give him a feeling of success, for he showed me various tokens of the estimation in which he is held, for instance, a presentation copy of Southey's works, in which the latter had written "Amicus amico, poeta poetae."
These English misses! "Ouf!" It was out of the Marchesino's mouth before he was aware of it, an exclamation of cynical disgust. "What's the matter, amico mio?" said Artois, in a low voice. "Niente!" said the Marchesino, recollecting himself. "Are not you going to sleep?" "Yes," said Artois, throwing away his cigar end. "I am. And you?" "I too!" The Marchesino was surprised by his friend's reply.
'Chi non sa fingersi amico, non sa essere nemico. "He who does not know how to disguise himself as a friend, does not know how to be an enemy." In the little corner of society in which Countess Steno, the Gorkas and Lincoln Maitland moved, who was hypocritical and spiteful enough to practise that counsel? "It is not Madame Steno," thought Julien; "she has related all herself to her lover.
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