"They were coming up on Mestre fast, and already it was like going to New York for the first time you were ever there in the old days when it was shining, white and beautiful. I stole that, he thought, but that was before the smoke. We are coming into my town, he thought. Christ, what a lovely town."
— Across the River and into the Trees - Ernest Hemingway ( please get me back to Venice)
