I have known female whores who spoke very bitterly of their calling. "If they don't like my face, they can put a cushion over it. I know it's not that they're interested in." But to the boys this profession never seemed shameful. It was their daytime occupations for which they felt the need to apologize. In some instances, these were lower class or humdrum or, worst of all, unfeminine. At least whoring was never that.

The Americans, of course, are quite dotty with hospitality.

Fear and hatred do not seem to find expression in tears.

A fair share of anything is starvation diet to an egomaniac.

Life is a game in which the rules are constantly changing; nothing spoils a game more than those who take it seriously. Adultery? Phooey! You should never subjugate yourself to another nor seek the subjugation of someone else to yourself. If you follow that Crispian principle you will be able to say Phooey, too, instead of reaching for your gun when you fancy yourself betrayed.

I never really found out what love was.

Nowadays people don't use face powder; they say it dries the skin. But I makeup in the old-fashioned way.