Progress is the realization of utopia.

Arguments are extremely vulgar, for everybody in good society holds exactly the same opinions.

In fact, now you mention the subject, I have been very bad in my own small way. I don't think you should be so proud of that, though I am sure it must have been very pleasant.

Poor? What does that matter? When poverty creeps in at the door, love flies in through the window.

Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

Give me the luxuries and I can dispense with the necessities.

"I hope your hair curls naturally, does it?" "Yes, darling, with a little help from others."