Bocce Quotes

Along the way [Mozart] got married; fathered seven children (two of whom survived into adulthood); performed as a pianist; violinist; and conductor; maintained a successful teaching studio; wrote thousands of letters; traveled widely; attended the theater religiously; played cards, billiards, and bocce; and rode horseback for exercise. Not bad for someone portrayed as a giggling idiot in the movies.

Marriage isn't like football, like bocce. One isn't good at it, nobody has a special gift. You stumble along, and if there is enough love--" she smiled at him-- "you learn.

Then one day this guy, Whispers DiTullio, came over to my table at the Bocce Club and bought me a glass of wine.

As her head rests on her pillow, she’ll go through the alphabet from A to Z and try to think of something to be grateful for that starts with each letter—A for her husband Andrew’s blueberry pancakes; B for bocce, her favorite game in the summer; etc.

Pochi uccelli Stephen preferiva ai succiacapre, ma non era stato il loro canto a farlo scendere dal letto. Rimase fermo, appoggiato alla ringhiera, e poco dopo Jack Aubrey, in un padiglione presso il campo di bocce, ricominciò a suonare con grande dolcezza nel buio, improvvisando solo per sé, fantasticando sul suo violino con una maestria che Stephen non aveva mai conosciuto in lui, sebbene avessero suonato insieme per tanti anni.[...] In effetti suonava meglio di Stephen, e ora che stava usando il suo prezioso Guarnieri invece del robusto strumento adatto al mare, la differenza era ancora più marcata: ma il Guarnieri non bastava a spiegarla del tutto, assolutamente no. Quando suonavano insieme, Jack nascondeva la propria eccellenza, mantenendosi al mediocre livello di Stephen [...]; mentre rifletteva su questo, Maturin si rese conto a un tratto che era sempre stato così: Jack, indipendentemente dalle condizioni di Stephen, detestava mettersi in mostra. Ma in quel momento, in quella notte tiepida, ora che non vi era nessuno da sostenere moralmente, cui dare il proprio appoggio, nessuno che potesse criticare il suo virtuosismo, Jack poteva lasciarsi andare completamente; e mentre la musica grave e delicata continuava a diffondersi, Stephen si stupì una volta di più dell'apparente contraddizione tra il grande e grosso ufficiale di marina, florido e allegro [...] e la musica pensosa, complessa che quello stesso uomo stava ora creando. Una musica che contrastava immensamente con il suo limitato vocabolario, un vocabolario che lo rendeva talvolta quasi incapace di esprimersi.

When you were a kid, didn’t you dream about going off to slay dragons? Didn’t you dream about being some kind of hero? And as you grew up and realized that you probably wouldn’t be slaying any dragons, real or metaphorical, didn’t you get tired of just watching others do physical things? Didn’t you get tired of only being involved in surrogate achievement, you know, living vicariously through the basketball players, the soccer players, the Italian bocce ball players, or whoever it is you admire? You gotta’ understand, people like me never stop lifting weights. The part of us that wanted to slay the dragon? It didn’t die. It won’t.

Cherry Hill, like most local wineries, is on a peninsula that juts into the vast expanse of Lake Michigan’s northernmost curve. The vineyards sprawl across gently rolling hills on either side of the long gravel road that brings us to the winery itself, all sleek glass, balsa wood, and corrugated metal. The parking lot is jammed, the gardens that encircle it bursting with colorful blooms, all tinted pinkish by the setting sun. Out beyond the flowers and hedges, whitewashed tables dot a grassy stretch, customers milling from the bocce court on one end to a duck pond at the other, delicately stemmed glasses in hand. Globe lights hang over the seating area, just waiting for the falling night to give them the cue to light up.

What’s the matter for you? You wanna see a stereotypa, suck on my Italian sausage and…” Einstein interrupted by leaping out of his chair, hovering over Da Vinci with his eyes as wide open as possible. His long pointy tongue stuck out like a frog ready to snap at a fly. “Oh, you wanna licka my bocce balls, do you?

At one point, field bocce was the only sport at the University of Oklahoma which included “dueling to the death” in its bylaws to settle a very specific and unlikely possible dispute. (This dispute never actually arose, although it nearly did, and Evan and I would have killed each other without hesitation out of respect for the game, had it come to it.) I believe the university has identified this provision and sadly dispensed with it. After

have bested Stella through sheer good luck and Lulu’s kindness, but I know that I can’t push my advantage too far without risking Permanent Exile. The only safe thing to do now is say to Lulu and Chris and Colin, Sorry—see you guys, and break off to reclaim my rightful place as Stella’s Number One, at which point we’ll ditch Iona and Yvette and have a sweet time, the magic of Stella being most intense when we’re first reunited and there is a sparkling surprise even to normal things like Shuffleboard or the Bocce Ball Courts or the Tire Swing. Ditching my new group is the only right move in my Stella drama but I can’t bring myself to do it, it is a split-second decision—NO—so I just smile at Stella and we keep walking and it feels dangerous to do this, I know I will pay later on but now it’s done.

Imight have to rethink the innocence of the local bocce-playing senior citizens.