"Now, in this new home we've made for ourselves, we no longer want to be poor, we're even a little frightened of being poor. We feel a curious fondness for the things around us, for a table or a rug, we who would always spill ink on our parents' rugs; this new fondness of ours for a rug is somewhat troubling, we're somewhat ashamed of it. We still walk through the streets at the edge of the city now and then, but back home we carefully wipe our muddy shoes on the doormat. We take a new pleasure in sitting at home under the lamp, the shutters sealed against the dark city."
Natalia Ginzburg
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