I Think We Are All Hopelessly Flawed.

Conceit Spoils The Finest Genius?and The Great Charm Of All Power Is Modesty.

We'll All Grow Up Meg, No Pretending We Won't.

Better Lose Your Life Than Your Soul.

A Little Kingdom I Possess, Where Thoughts And Feelings Dwell; And Very Hard The Task I Find Of Governing It Well.

Where's The Use Of Looking Nice, When No One Sees Me But Those Cross Midgets, And No One Cares Whether I'm Pretty Or Not?