It was five o'clock in the evening and raining, but not cold, so that the whole world here agreed it couldn't hurt me.

I went with Robert therefore; we were received at Castellani's most flatteringly as poets and lovers of Italy; were asked for autographs; and returned in a blaze of glory and satisfaction, to collapse (as far as I'm concerned) in a near approach to mortality.

You see I can't catch a simple cold.

All my bad symptoms came back.

Suffocations, singular heart-action, cough tearing one to atoms.