All children, except one, grow up.

Oh, you mysterious girls, when you are fifty-two we shall find you out; you must come into the open then. If the mouth has fallen sourly yours the blame: all the meanness your youth concealed have been gathering in your face. But the pretty thoughts and sweet ways and dear, forgotten kindnesses linger there also, to bloom in your twilight like evening primroses.

In love-making, as in other arts, those who do it best cannot tell how it is done.

Oh, the cleverness of me!

You see, dear, it is not true that woman was made from man's rib; she was made from his funny bone.

Stars are beautiful, but they may not take part in anything, they must just look on forever.

Fairies don’t live long, but they are so little that a short time seems a good while to them