It is a very sad thing that nowadays there is so little useless information.
The sick do not ask if the hand that smoothes their pillow is pure, nor the dying care if the lips that touch their brow have known the kiss of sin.
The only link between Literature and the Drama left to us in England at the present moment is the bill of the play.
An idea that isn't risky is hardly worth calling an idea.
It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.
As long as a woman can look ten years younger than her own daughter, she is perfectly satisfied.