To jealousy, nothing is more frightful than laughter.

A love affair based on jealousy is doomed from the start ... It is certanly a sign of love, but it's a sign that it's already dying.

A Strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of it's complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.

No one, but no one, ever behaves 'well' in bed unless they love or are loved - two conditions seldom fulfilled.

What you call types of mind are only mental ages.

In love, as in finance, only the rich can get credit.

If you treat life well, life is usually good to you. And I love life. There's a long-standing affair between us.