A Quote by Oscar Wilde

Oh, how I vainly wished to the bearded man in the sky that I was Neapolitan. Why? So I could bring in a fine Neapolitan pest control to help with Queensberry's problem before it gets out of hand.
The variations I've composed on the graceful Neapolitan ditty, 'Oh Mamma, Mama Cara,' outshine everything. I can't describe it
I'm reading Elena Ferrante's 'Neapolitan' novels. They are amazing. I feel like she gets the entire experience of being a woman.
If I could lick the sunset, I'll bet it would taste like Neapolitan ice cream.
I'm not Italian, I am Neapolitan! It's another thing!
Neapolitan people are always outside. They are not in front of the television.
I am Neapolitan and Naples are the team from where I grew up.
I would like to thank all Neapolitan fans for the affection and warmth that I have felt.
How does a cosmos without a bearded, bathrobed God in the sky pull off all the things that a bearded, bathrobed guy in the sky was supposed to have pulled off? If there was no God who said 'Let there be light,' where did we get all that light?
My favorite pizza is the real Neapolitan - Italian sausage, friarielli, mozzarella and chilli.
I shut up everything inside. Everything." Words ground out through clenched teeth. "I thought if I could hold it, just hold it, it would be fine. But it's not." "Why?" she asked. "Why are you losing control so badly?" The answer, when it came, broke Sascha's heart. "Hawke." It was an almost soundless whisper. "Oh, Sienna." She stroked her hand over the girl's hair, even as her mind worked at piercing speed. "Has it been cumulative?" Sienna nodded. "The second I met him, everything crumbled, my shields, my conditioning, everything!
I feel like I see more and more Neapolitan style, that I call 'fancy pizza' - that's not my cup of tea; I think it all tastes the same.
Let me just say you could end this violence within a very short period of time, have a complete ceasefire - which Iran could control, which Russia could control, which Syria could control, and which we and our coalition friends could control - if one man would merely make it known to the world that he doesn't have to be part of the long-term future; he'll help manage Syria out of this mess and then go off into the sunset, as most people do after a period of public life. If he were to do that, then you could stop the violence and quickly move to management.
...she merely wished to find a way out of the maze. She knew that she had become a burden to him: she took things too seriously, turning everything into a tragedy, and failed to grasp the lightness and amusing insignificance of physical love. How she wished she could learn lightness! She yearned for someone to help her out of her anachronistic shell.
My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats.
Homesickness is universal. But Neapolitan homesickness goes back further than the accidents of domicile. It is nostalgia for love and loss themselves, a soul-sickness caused by the very idea of leaving.
Oh, my dear Kepler, how I wish that we could have one hearty laugh together. Here, at Padua, is the principal professor of philosophy, whom I have repeatedly and urgently requested to look at the moon and planets through my glass, [telescope] which he pertinaciously refuses to do. Why are you not here? what shouts of laughter we should have at this glorious folly! and to hear the professor of philosophy at Pisa laboring before the grand duke with logical arguments, as if with magical incantations, to charm the new planets out of the sky.
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