Who would prefer peace to the glory of hunger and thirst, of wading through mud, and dying in the service of one's country?

Sadness flies on the wings of the morning, and out of the heart of darkness comes the light.

I remember a time when a cabbage could sell itself by being a cabbage. Nowadays it’s no good being a cabbage – unless you have an agent and pay him a commission. Nothing is free anymore to sell itself or give itself away. These days, Countess, every cabbage has its pimp.

When he (man) ceased any longer to heed the words of the seers and prophets, science lovingly brought forth the radio.

If two people who love each other let a single instant wedge itself between them, it grows-it becomes a month, a year, a century; it becomes to late.

Faithful women are all alike, they think only of their fidelity, never of their husbands.

Countries are like fruit-the worms are always inside.