I have an idea that conscience impedes quite as many merits as faults, is a sort of alloy, a nickel which may prevent silver from bending but also prevents it from shining.

One reason why my memory decays is that I have three cats, all so loving and insistent that they play cat's-cradle with every train of thought. They drove me distracted while I was having influenza, gazing at me with large eyes and saying: O Sylvia, you are so ill, you'll soon be dead. And who will feed us then? Feed us now!

Love is the only real patriation, and without one's dear one sits in a dreary and boring exile.

General de Gaulle is again pictured in our newspapers, looking as usual like an embattled codfish.

Nine people out of ten (in Germany and England, perhaps ten people) would rather wait for their rights than fight for their rights.

The baby romped on my lap like a short stout salmon.

Anticipation of pleasure is a pleasure in itself.