It costs me never a stab nor squirm / To tread by chance upon a worm. / Aha, my little dear, / I say, Your clan will pay me back one day.

[Requesting her epitaph to read this way:] Excuse my dust.

For a few minutes, everything is so cute that the mind reels.... And then, believe it or not, things get worse. So I shot myself.

This must be a gift book. That is to say a book, which you wouldn't take on any other terms.

London is satisfied, Paris is resigned, but New York is always hopeful.

Four things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

Flowers are heaven's masterpiece.