'Do you remember Rome, dear Lou? How is it in your memory? In mine sometimes there will be only its waters, those clear, exquisite, animated waters that live in its squares; its steps, built on the pattern of falling water, so strangely thrusting stair out of stair like wave out of wave; its gardens' festiveness and the splendour of great terraces; its nights that last so long, still and filled to overflowing with great constellations.'
from a letter by Rainer Maria Rilke in 1903
