Mourn not for the vanished ages with their grand, heroic men, who dwell in history's pages and live in the poets pen for the grandest times are before us and the world is yet to see the noblest work of this old earth in the men that are to be.

Let us clear a little space, And make Love a burial-place. He is dead, dear, as you see, And he wearies you and me.

God sent us here to make mistakes

Say you are well, or all is well with you, and God shall hear your words and make them true.

For an actress to be a success, she must have the face of Venus, the brains of a Minerva, the grace of Terpsichore, the memory of a Macaulay, the figure of Juno, and the hide of a rhinoceros.

Distrust that man who tells you to distrust. He takes the measure of his own small soul, and thinks the world no larger.

For this is wisdom- to love and live To take what fate or the Gods may give, To ask no question, to make no prayer, To kiss the lips and caress the hair, Speed passion's ebb as we greet its flow, To have and to hold, and, in time--let go.