This Italian restaurant I’m at is authentic! When they seat you, they give you a mustache.

The chorus-ending from Aristophanes, raised every night from every ditch that drains into the Mediterranean, hoarse and primeval as the raven’s croak, is one of the grandest tunes to walk by. Or on a night in May, one can walk through the too rare Italian forests for an hour on end and never be out of hearing of the nightingale’s song.

Italy valued cathedrals while Spain valued explorers. So worldwide, five times as many people speak Spanish than Italian.