There was a kindliness about intoxication - there was that indescribable gloss and glamour it gave, like the memories of ephemeral and faded evenings.

Every author ought to write every book as if he were going to be beheaded the day he finished it.

How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his.

It makes me sad because I've never seen such--such beautiful shirts before.

Never miss a party...good for the nerves--like celery.

Before you criticize others, remember, they may not have had the same opportunities in life as you have had

The farmers may be the backbone of the country, but who wants to be a backbone?