We walked home to the song of nightingales by starlight and firefly-light.

Florence looks to us more beautiful than ever after Rome.

I love the very stones of it, to say nothing of the cypresses and river.
Robert says, 'Are you nearly done ?' I am done.

Give Penini's love and mine to the dear nonno, and tell him (and yourself, dear) how delighted we shall be [to] have you both.

You are prepared to go to England, I hope.