Brevity is the soul of lingerie.

When I was young and bold and strong, The right was right, the wrong was wrong. With plume on high and flag unfurled, I rode away to right the world. But now I’m old - and good and bad, Are woven in a crazy plaid. I sit and say the world is so, And wise is s/he who lets it go.

[To the British actor who annoyed her by repeated references to his busy 'shedule':] I think you're full of skit.

The ladies men admire, I've heard, Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light, They'd rather stay at home at night. They do not keep awake 'till three, Nor read erotic poetry. They never sanction the impure, Nor recognize an overture. They shrink from powders and from paints... So far I've had no complaints.

Hell's afloat in lover's tears.

Now that you've got me right down to it, the only thing I didn't like about The Barrets of Wimplole Street was the play.

I like to have a martini/Two at the very most/After three I'm under the table/After four I'm under my host.