Tag Archives: Marlena De Blasi

Flori says…

Traditionalisti, progressisiti. Bah. Maybe the only thing that matters is to make our lives last as long as we do. You know, to make a life last until it ends, to make all the parts come out even, like when you rub the last piece of bread in the last drop of oil on your plate and eat it with the last sip of wine in your glass.”

A Thousand Days in Tuscany — Marlena De Blasi

Fernando says…

“No. I mean I’m tired of waiting. I understand now about using up my time. Life is this conto, account,” said the banker in him. “It’s an unknown quantity of days from which one is permitted to withdraw only one precious one of them at a time. No deposits accepted.”  This allegory presents glittering opportunity for more of the stranger’s stage work. “I’ve used so many of mine to sleep. One by one, I’ve mostly waited for them to pass. It’s common enough for one to simply find a safe place to wait it all out. Every time I would begin to examine things, to think about what I felt, what I wanted, nothing touched, nothing mattered more than anything else. I’ve been lazy. Life rolled itself out and I shambled along sempre due passi indietro, always two steps behind. Fatalita, fate. Easy. No risks. Everything is someone else’s fault or merit. And so now, no more waiting.”

A Thousand Days in Venice — Marlena De Blasi