Hors d'oeuvres have always a pathetic interest for me; they remind me of one's childhood that one goes through wondering what the next course is going to be like - and during the rest of the menu one wishes one had eaten more of the hors d'oeuvres.

His socks compelled one's attention without losing one's respect.

People talk vaguely about the innocence of a little child, but they take mighty good care not to let it out of their sight for twenty minutes.

I believe I once considerably scandalized her by declaring that clear soup was a more important factor in life than a clear conscience.

A beautifully constructed borshch, such as you are going to experience presently, ought not only to banish conversation but almost to annihilate thought.

I always say beauty is only sin deep.

I hate babies. They're so human.