How clever you are, my dear! You never mean a single word you say.

If you cannot write well, you cannot think well; if you cannot think well, others will do your thinking for you.

I am afraid that woman appreciate cruelty, downright cruelty, more than anything else. They have wonderfully primitive instincts. We have emancipated them, but they remain slaves looking for their masters, all the same. They love being dominated.

Some temptations are so great it takes great courage to yield to them.

There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword! Some kill their love when they are young, And some when they are old; Some strangle with the hands of Lust, Some with the hands of Gold: The kindest use a knife, because The dead so soon grow cold. Some love too little, some too long, Some sell, and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

Youth! There is nothing like youth. The middle-aged are mortgaged to Life. The old are in Life's lumber