There is nothing more thrilling in this world, I think, than having a child that is yours, and yet is mysteriously a stranger.

One doesn't recognize the really important moments in one's life until it's too late.

My remarks are, as always, apt, sound, and to the point. (Hercule Poirot)

But no artist, I now realize, can be satisfied with art alone. There is a natural craving for recognition which cannot be gain-said.

I, myself, was always recognized . . . as the “slow one” in the family. It was quite true, and I knew it and accepted it. Writing and spelling were always terribly difficult for me. My letters were without originality. I was . . . an extraordinarily bad speller and have remained so until this day.

Never worry about what you say to a man. They're so conceited that they never believe you mean it if it's unflattering.

I believe, Messieurs, in loyalty---to one's friends and one's family and one's caste.