I know Italians and I like them. A lot of my father's best friends were Italians.
Italians can't win the game against you, but you can lose the game against the Italians.
The Italians are very unmusical. If I go to a Protestant church in London or Amsterdam or listen to a black choir, I hear four-part harmony. Italians could never do that. In Italy, we all have to sing the melody because we cannot harmonise.
How is the newcomer to deal with Rome? What is one to make of this marble rubble, this milk of wolves, this blood of Caesars, this sunrise of Renaissance, this baroquery of blown stone, this warm hive of Italians, this antipasto of civilization?
One thing about Italians is you can't let them in your head. They're inquisitive. The English and Germans are a dog tribe; the Italians are cats. They're very helpful, but it's in their own rhythm, their own way, and it can drive you crazy.
I was so happy when I went to Rome and I saw that the Romans eat them too, the squash blossoms. [...] No wonder I like the Italians!
I just want to remind everybody that it's Columbus Day. That all those of you that know Italians and like Italians are the people that might venture on to a ship and travel to explore and find new lands, this is your day. It's not St. Patty's Day. That's a different day entirely.
Maybe Italians are a bit less restrained: they can be less rigid and sometimes they stray a little in their ways of dressing for work, which is something that is always linked to the formal suit. What we like of both Italians and the British is that they love to dress well. In the past ten years we have witnessed a revolution in the menswear market.
If you score against the Italians you deserve a goal.
Rome has New York's formlessness, aimlessness, a kind of hard-boiled sophistication, blase about everything. In their filmmaking, too, the Italians have this tongue-in-cheek sense of comedy.
Italians can not beat us, but we can certainly lose against them.
I am damnably sick of Italy, Italian and Italians, outrageously, illogically sick.... I hate to think that Italians ever did anything in the way of art.... What did they do but illustrate a page or so of the New Testament! They themselves think they have a monopoly in the line. I am dead tired of their bello and bellezza.
I come from a family of Catholic Italians, and that will always be in my blood.
I think that we must come together progressively, with the British, the Germans, the Spanish, the Italians and with the new members of the European Union, we must make an effort to forge closer links.
Old St Petersburg remains a beautiful stage set but to the Russians it is not what Rome is to the Italians or Paris to the French. The decisions are made in the Kremlin. The city of Peter remains a museum, open from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM.
Playing against an Italian team is harder than all the other leagues. The Italians won't score lots of goals, but they won't concede many, either.