Actors From Italy

"What's in front of me, I can't talk anymore | tell me what you like, I can't understand | where would you like to go | do you want to go to sleep. (from Cara, side B, n. 2)"

"How much hair do you have, | you can't count, | move the bottle, | let yourself be watched | if you can trust so much hair. (from Cara, side B, n. 2)"

"I know a place in my heart | where the wind always blows | for your few years | and for mine who are one hundred | and there is nothing to understand | just sit and listen. | Because I wrote a song for every repentance | and I have to be careful not to fall into the wine | or end up inside your eyes | if you come closer to me... (from Cara, side B, n. 2)"

"The night has its own scent and you can fall into it, | that no one sees you | but for someone like me, poor guy, who wanted to take you by the hand | and fall into a bed | how sad, how nostalgic | Don't look yourself in the eye and tell yourself another lie. | At least I hadn't met you | I'm dying here and you're eating ice cream. (from Cara, side B, n. 2)"

"Who knows, who knows tomorrow | what will we get our hands on, | if we can still count the waves of the sea | and raise your head. | Don't be so serious, | stay. (from Futura, side B, n. 4)"

"He will be born and will not be afraid of our son | and who knows what he will be like tomorrow, | on which roads he will walk, | what will he have in his hands, his hands, | he will move and be able to fly, | he will swim on a star, | how beautiful you are | and if she is a female she will be called | Future. || Her name said this night | it's already scary, | she will be different, beautiful as a star | it will be you in miniature. (from Futura, side B, n. 4)"

"If I were an angel | who knows what I would do | tall, blond, invisible | how beautiful I would be | and what courage would I have. (from If I were an angel, n. 1)"

"I know that angels are millions of millions | and that you do not see them in the heavens but among men | they are the poorest and the loneliest | those caught in the nets. (from If I were an angel, n. 1)"

"Here where the sea glitters | and the wind blows strong | on an old terrace | in front of the gulf of Sorrento | a man hugs a girl | after she had cried | then he clears his throat | and the singing begins again. (from Caruso, n. 1)"

"Te I love you assaje | but you know very, very well, | it's a chain now | that dissolves the blood in your veins you know. (from Caruso, n. 1)"

"He saw the lights in the middle of the sea | he thought of the nights there in America | but they were only the lamps | and the white trail of a propeller. | He felt the pain in the music | he got up from the piano | but when he saw the moon come out of a cloud | Even death seemed sweeter to him. | He looked into the girl's eyes, | those green eyes like the sea, | suddenly a tear came out | and he thought he was drowning. (from Caruso, n. 1)"

"Power of lyrical opera where every drama is a fake, | that with a little makeup and | with mimicry you can become someone else, | but two eyes that look at you, so close and true | they make you forget the words, they confuse your thoughts. (from Caruso, n. 1)"

"So everything becomes small | even the nights there in America | you turn around and see your life | like the wake of a propeller. | But yes, it's life that ends, | but he didn't think about it that much, | in fact he already felt happy | and he began his song again. (from Caruso, n. 1)"

"There is a small house like this | with many colored windows | and a little woman like this | with two big eyes to look at. | And there's a little man like this | who always comes back late from work | and he has a small hat like this | with a dream to realize inside | and the more he thinks about it | he can't wait anymore. (from Beware of the Wolf , n. 1)"

"My love you don't have to worry | this life is a chain | sometimes it hurts a little. | Look how calm I am | even if through the woods | with the help of the good Lord | always watching out for the wolf. (from Beware the Wolf, n. 1)"

"There's a small meadow like this over there | with a great noise of cicadas | and a sweet and small perfume like this | my love summer has arrived | my love, summer has arrived. | And the two of us lying here making love | in the midst of this sea of ​​cicadas | this little love like this | but so big that I feel like I'm flying | and the more I think about it, the more I can't wait. (from Beware of the Wolf, n. 1)"

"I would like to get inside the wires of a radio | and fly over the roofs of the cities, | meet dialect expressions, | mix with the smell of coffee, | stop on the noses of old people while they read the newspapers | and with the dust of dreams fly and fly | in the cool of the stars, even further away. (from Le rondini, n. 4)"

"I would like to circle the sky like the swallows | and every now and then I stop here and there, | to have a nest under the roofs in the cool of the porticoes | and like them when it is evening close your eyes with simplicity. (from Le rondini, n. 4)"

"I would like to follow every beat of my heart | to understand what happens inside and what moves it, | where does this strange pain come from every now and then, | I would like to understand, in short, what love, | is where you take, where you give. (from Le rondini, n. 4)"

"My name is Ayrton and I'm a driver | and I run fast on my way | even if it is no longer the same road | even if it is no longer the same. (from Ayrton, n. 1)"

"I don't know how to expect much more, | every minute gives me | the instinct to sew time | and to bring you this way, | I have a mattress of words | written especially for you | and I would tell you turn off the light | that the sky exists. (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"Hard-headed, turnip-headed | I would like to love you here too | in the toilet of a nightclub | or on top of a bar table. | Or being naked in the middle of the field | to feel the wind on you | I don't ask for much more | even if I die I'm happy. (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"Stay away from her | she doesn't live, | stay without her | she kills me. (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"Song, look for it if you can, | tell her that she never loses me | Go through the streets among the people, | really tell him. (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"I my eyes from your eyes | I would never remove them, | now I actually eat them | you don't know anyway. | Eyes of the sea without rocks | the sea crashes on me | that I have always only made mistakes | but what is a mistake? (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"And the rain is like tears | reminds me of her face, | I see it in every drop | that falls on my jacket. (from Canzone, n. 2)"

"I would like to be the dress you will wear | the lipstick you will use | I would like to dream of you like I have never dreamed of you | I meet you on the street and I become sad | because then I think you will leave. (from You are never enough for me, n. 3)"

"I would like to be the water of the shower you take | the sheets of the bed where you will sleep | the burger on Saturday night that you will eat... that you will eat | I would like to be the engine of your car | so suddenly you will turn me on. (from You are never enough for me, n. 3)"

"You, you are never enough for me | it's really never enough for me | you, you my sweet land | where I have never been. (from Tu non mi basti mai, n. 3)"

"I have to talk to you like I never do | I want to dream of you like I never dream of you | be the ring you will wear | the beach where you will walk | the mirror that looks at you if you look at it, you will look. | I would like to be the bird you caress | I would never fly from your hands. (from Tu non mi basti mai, n. 3)"

"I would like to be the grave when you die | and where you will live | the sky under which you will sleep. | So we will never leave each other | not even if I die and you know it. (from Tu non mi basti mai, n. 3)"

"Dancing dancing | I'm never tired | I move instinctively yeah. (from Ballando ballando, n. 5)"

"The bow of the boat cuts the sea in two | but the sea comes together and always remains the same | and between a Greek, a Norman, a Byzantine | I still remained Sicilian. (from Siciliano, n. 2)"

"But if the light goes down, my heart stays there, | if there is a thought that lights it up it is looking for Monday. (from Monday, n. 8)"

"It is an inevitable psychic gap, a feeling of embarrassment, a taste of systematic cheating: a homosexual who has not been publicly declared and therefore doesn't give a damn about Catholic sexual morality, who has never expressed anything against the clerical-based homophobia that plagues his country , who never once took an open position for the trampled rights of his fellow citizens of political, civil and racial misfortune, a guy like that who, for example, writes and sings his love for a woman comes first (due to mediocrity of character, deliberate hypocrisy, love of a quiet life at the expense of those who fight for his own rights which he first denied) of the beauty or ugliness of his dedication improperly set to music. You don't see the homage to women, you see the ridiculous falsity and the aesthetic necessity for third parties that underlies it."

"I'm angry, I'm furious about this matter of Dalla and his funeral. We began and continued with a hypocritical delivery of silence regarding Marco Alemanno. There was talk of a bosom friend, a main collaborator... Marco was simply Dalla's companion, I often met them at the newsstand in Porta San Vitale, they didn't flaunt anything but they didn't hide anything. Lucia is absolutely right. If Dalla had married Marco in New York or Oslo or Madrid, as many Bolognese couples have done, she would never have had a funeral in San Petronio, a symbolic church owned by the Municipality but managed by the Bolognese Curia."

"It bothered me to see how many testimonies focused on who he remembered rather than on Lucio. Me, me, me... That me, protagonist at all costs, beyond good taste, beyond shame, basking, in the warmth of the bright spotlight. But there was, more than ever, only one protagonist. Now, I hope, the "memories" will fade away and his music will continue to be powerful, aristocratic and popular."

"If I close my eyes I am reminded of Sanremo 1971. I am reminded of a gentleman with a beard, namely Lucio Dalla, who sings "4 March 1943". That song struck me a lot, also because I was born in March, so the song had a great fascination in me, as a child. A song that gave me a great thrill and it is no coincidence that I wanted it in the promos of the Festival."

"Samuele Bersani"

"My relationship with Italy is really a relationship of memory... of colors and shapes whose roots are in my childhood. I am convinced that anyone raised in Italy has unconsciously received a very incisive visual education. Having constantly been exposed to artistic masterpieces of incredible beauty, one implicitly receives an education in taste that remains unmatched."

"The funny side is repressed inside myself somehow, but it was always there. I think it's from my mother's side, she was always funny and making jokes, so I didn't suffer at all! When I get together with Bud, something just clicks and we are funny."

"Devo al film della Wertmuller "Mimì metallurgico ferito nell'onore" il successo di un personaggio che è piaciuto molto all'estero e con il quale sono stato a lungo identificato con grande piacere."

"I wanted the two [lead] roles, of Mimi and Fiore, to be played by Giancarlo Giannini and Mariangela Melato. Both were already well-respected actors but had not yet played lead roles in movies. At the beginning, the producers were hesitant and had to take a gamble on these two talents. In the end, everyone was convinced of how good they were, and we formed a beautiful team."

"Pasqualino Settebellezze era un film che non voleva far nessuno, perché parla di un campo di concentramento. È una storia vera. Sono riuscito a convincere Lina [Wertmüller] a farlo e ha avuto quattro candidature all'Oscar."

"My independence, which is my strength, implies my loneliness, which is weakness. (Italian: La mia indipendenza, che è la mia forza, implica la solitudine, che è la mia debolezza.)"

"Nothing is more anarchic than power. Power does what it wants. (Italian: Nulla è più anarchico del potere, il potere fa praticamente ciò che vuole.)"

"Seriousness is the only quality of people who have no other ones. (Italian: La serietà è la qualità di coloro che non ne hanno altre.)"

"I don’t want to stay in a place that calls itself a Jewish community but is the propaganda office of a government. I am against those who want to ‘Israelianize’ Judaism."

"Art possesses the formidable tool of . Take, for instance, theatre. Theatre, by convention, agrees to be fake; thanks to this convention, which is innocuous, it can tell the truth. Art can tell the truth, because it is a transfigured language which doesn’t claim to possess divine truth; with its ability to transform relationships, it can address even the most terrible issues, exploring them without being destroyed by them. But artists have to be conscious of their role."

"If you know that I am an unbeliever, then you know me better than I do myself. I may be an unbeliever, but I am an unbeliever who has a nostalgia for a belief."