Women hock their jewels and their husbands' insurance policies to acquire an unaccustomed shade in hair or crêpe de chine. Why then is it that when anyone commits anything novel in the arts he should be always greeted by this same peevish howl of pain and surprise? One is led to suspect that the interest people show in these much talked of commodities, painting, music, and writing, cannot be very deep or very genuine when they so wince under an unexpected impact.

In certain savage tribes in New Guinea, they put the old people up in the trees and shake them once a year in the spring; if they don't fall out they let them live another year.

But what's the good of freedom? What can you do with it? What one wants is to live well and have a beautiful house and be respected by people.

Individuality is freedom lived.

Mealtime's the only time I get to devote to the things of the spirit.

People don't choose their careers; they are engulfed by them.

It's easy to forget how central the French people are in everything we mean when we say Europe.