I want to live for something. I don't want to live to get charity food to give me enough strength to go back to get more charity food.

New York! I've always wanted to see it and now I've see it. It's true what they say-- it's the most wonderful city in the world.

In the future, when something comes up, you tell exactly how it happened but write down for yourself the way you think it should have happened. Tell the truth and write the story. Then you won't get mixed up. It was the best advice Francie every got.

You won't die, Francie. You were born to lick this rotten life.

Oh time...time, pass so that I forget! Oh time, Great Healer, pass over me and let me forget.

Suffering is also good, it makes a person rich in charachter.

Francie looked at her legs. They were long, slender, and exquisitely molded. She wore the sheerest of flawless silk stockings, and expensively made high-heeled pumps shod her beautifully arched feet. "Beautiful legs, then, is the secret of being a mistriss," concluded Francie. She looked down at her own long thin legs. "I'll never make it, I guess." Sighing , she resigned herself to a sinless life.