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

It is through the cracks in our brains that ecstasy creeps in.

I am one of the unpraised, unrewarded millions without whom Statistics would be a bankrupt science. It is we who are born, who marry, who die, in constant ratios.

The test of enjoyment is the remembrance which it leaves behind.

Style is a magic wand, and turns everything to gold that it touches.

All our lives we are putting pennies — our most golden pennies — into penny-in-the-slot machines that are almost always empty.

How often my soul visits the National Gallery, and how seldom