For gin, in cruel sober truth, supplies the fuel for flaming youth.
I don't believe in astrology. The only stars I can blame for my failures are those that walk about the stage.
Bed is the perfect climate.
The pleasures that once were heaven look silly at sixty-seven.
You kissed me because you were awfully nice and I was awfully nice and we both liked kissing very much. It was inevitable.
She had much in common with Hitler, only no mustache.