You know what a woman's curiosity is.
But beauty, real beauty, ends where an intellectual expression begins. Intellect is in itself a mode of exaggeration, and destroys the harmony of any face.
You can have your secret as long as I have your heart[.]
For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us.
An egg is always an adventure; the next one may be different.
Women have a wonderful instinct about things. They can discover everything except the obvious.