[To her frequently needed plumber:] How would you like to be adopted? I'm sure it would be cheaper.
Mary Roberts Rinehartthere is something shameful about the death of a play. It does not die with pity, but contempt. A book may fail, but who is there to know it? It dies and is buried, and is decently interred on the bookseller's shelf; but the play dies to laughter, to scorn and disdain.
Mary Roberts RinehartLove sees clearly, and seeing, loves on. But infatuation is blind; when it gains sight, it dies.
Mary Roberts Rinehartit's been my experience that the first few days of married life women are blind because they want to be and after that because they have to be.
Mary Roberts Rinehart