Art, if it is art, will develop in whatever circumstances it is placed.

Did you ever read a love-letter that wasn't an evidence of idiocy - except your own?

It is personal vanity of the most flagrant type which intrudes itself, unasked, into other people's affairs. There are few of us who do not feel capable of ordering the daily lives of others, down to the most minute detail.

There is only one path which leads to the house of forgiveness - that of understanding.

But somewhere on the great world the sun is always shining, and, just so sure as you live, it will sometime shine on you.

If we could only use other folks' experience, this here world would be heaven in about three generations, but we're so constructed that we never believe fire'll burn till we poke our own fingers into it to see. Other folks' scars don't go no ways at all toward convincin' us.

Conceit is lovable and unconcealed ; vanity is supreme selfishness, usually hidden.