Human sympathy has its limits, and we were contented to let all their tragic arguments fade with the city lights behind.
I like people and I like them to like me, but I wear my heart where God put it, on the inside.
Englishmen must have an island.
Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy.
Here's to alcohol, the rose colored glasses of life.
I want to give a really BAD party. I mean it. I want to give a party where thereโs a brawl and seductions and people going home with their feelings hurt and women passed out in the cabinet de toilette. You wait and see.