there is not enough interest in life to spread over twenty-four hours when one can't sleep.
To be totally understanding makes one very indulgent.
Exile: A tomb in which you can get mail.
[On Italian:] One may almost call it a language that talks of itself, and always seems more witty than its speakers.
It is not enough to forgive; one must forget.
The greater part of what women write about women is mere sycophancy to man.