Female guide: "The workshop. The poet's main working room. The door is so low that one must lower ones head to enter it in honour of the work that has been done here. The brightness of the room stands out and the basic furnishings of light oak."

D'Annunzio: "There is no other sound in the world like that of my pen. The whiteness of my Fabrino paper is unique. There is no other artistic mean that is more alive, agile, exact, manifold, sculptural, obedient, sensitive, loyal and richer in imitating nature."

Male guide: "Works of art are created here. Work is done here."

D'Annunzio: "I weld iron, I blow glass, I work with gems, I do prints on wood with a press, I paint fabric, I carve wood and bones. Everything here is made and refined by my hand.
Everything here bares the mark of my style, its meaning rendered by my style.
Not just every house I furnished, not just every room I carefully designed but every single object that in the course of my life I have chosen and collected, was a form of expression, a spiritual revelation, like my poetry, like any of my political or military achievements, like any of my declarations of a just and unbending belief. Therefore I dare to offer all I own to the Italian people, also all that I will earn and increase in the future through my new works. Not a fat inheritance of lifeless riches, but a naked heritage of an immortal spirit."

Female guide: "A covered bust of The Duse stands on the second table, entitled 'The veiled witness'."

Male guide: "The actress is the 'veiled witness' of his endless creative activity."

Whisperer: "Staring over the lake, dressed in silk, he finally fell out the window, but did not break his neck. Power as a drug, refined with cocaine, heroin and opium. Body politics and acts of state. Design as a last chance, with a final nausea envious of the starving's hunger. Loads of cakes, tarts, almond-coated yeastcake, and then a laxative. An endless selection of brands, odours and constipation. Euphoria and depression. His exclamation marks became bullets. The reader is shot in praise of the writing. An Ossarium, a tower created from the bones of dead soldiers. Instead of sex, the daily mention in the gossip columns. The most expensive cars, the most precious tableware, as jounalistic toady dancing to the tune of the masters. Bed bound, trapped, stretched out sideways, like a bored Roman beign careful not to bring up his food. Lying in the dust. Zampano, grey eminence, honorary citizen, legend, star, starfucker. Anaemic, cold hands, flaky skin. Interviews, press conferences, thousands of extras."