The perfection of a thing consists in its essence; there are perfect criminals, as there are men of perfect probity.

My Scottie refused to go for a walk with a friend of the house, but she would joyously accompany any stranger who drove a car.

The perfection of a thing consists in its essence; there are perfect criminals, as there are men of perfect probity.

a church is an interesting place once you get the parson and the people out of it. Real music can get in then, and a real God! Nothing flibertigibbet about religion then.

Every one regards his duty as a troublesome master from whom he would like to be free.

She never sat down in a car but stood, braced tense, facing the wind. Now and again she would turn her face toward me with an apologetic expression as though to say: "I have not forgotten that you are here but there are certain pleasures I cannot share with you." Her nose never ceased its sensitive quivering.