Love, the poet said, is woman's whole existence.

Our friends - how distant, how mute, how seldom visited and little known. And I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown; a phantom, sometimes seen, often not. Life is a dream surely.

Consolation for those moments when you can't tell whether you're the divinest genius or the greatest fool in the world.

I have lost friends, some by death...others by sheer inability to cross the street.

For it is probable that when people talk aloud, the selves (of which there may be more than two thousand) are conscious of disserverment, and are trying to communicate but when communication is established there is nothing more to be said.

Style is a very simple matter; it is all rhythm. Once you get that, you can't use the wrong words.

The connection between dress and war is not far to seek; your finest clothes are those you wear as soldiers.