Finance, Like Time, Devours Its Own Children.

Equality May Be A Right, But No Power On Earth Can Convert It Into Fact.

Paris, Like Every Pretty Woman, Is Subject To Inexplicable Whims Of Beauty And Ugliness.

To Those Who Have Exhausted Politics, Nothing Remains But Abstract Thought.

It Is Not Hope But Despair That Gives Us The Measure Of Our Ambitions. We May Yield Secretly To Beautiful Poems Of Hope But Grief Looms Start And Stripped Of All Veils.

Everybody All Over The World Takes A Wife's Estimate Into Account In Forming An Opinion Of A Man.