This nice and subtle happiness of reading, this joy not chilled by age, this polite and unpunished vice, this selfish, serene life-long intoxication.

If they lost the incredible conviction that they can change their wives or husbands, marriage would collapse at once.

An echo of music, a face in the street, the wafer of the new moon, a wanton thought - only in the iridescence of things the vagabond soul is happy.

For souls in growth, great quarrels are great emancipations.

The ladies who try to keep their beauty are the ladies who lose it.

Don't tell friends their social faults; they will cure the fault and never forgive you.

If it's to be, it's up to me.