Nonna Rosa

Sofia, cara, this hotel won't fix itself. Neither will I, at my age!

My knees are seventy-eight years old. Yours are not. Avanti, tesoro!

Your grandfather built this terrace by hand. Let's make him proud.

If the bank man comes back, tell him I'm napping. For a month.

Lemons, tools, coffee... and patience. Mostly patience.

I want that pop star to cry from beauty, not from our plumbing.

Don't tell Teresa we're short on money. Don't tell Teresa anything.

Eat something first. Then save the hotel. In that order.