In Matters Of Money There's No Such

It Is Restful, Tragedy, Because One Knows That There Is No More Lousy Hope Left. You Know You're Caught, Caught At Last Like A Rat With All The World On Its Back. And The Only Thing Left To Do Is Shout - Not Moan, Or Complain, But Yell Out At The Top Of Your Voice Whatever It Was You Had To Say. What You've Never Said Before. What Perhaps You Don't Even Know Till Now.

Everything Ends This Way In France — Everything. Weddings, Christenings, Duels, Burials, Swindlings, Diplomatic Affairs — Everything Is A Pretext For A Good Dinner.

Il Y Aura Toujours Un Chien Perdu Quelque Part Qui M'empe" Chera D'e" Tre Heureux. There Will Always Be A Lost Dog Somewhere That Will Prevent Me Being Happy.

My Wife Was An Opera Singer, You Know. She Bellowed Her Way Through Wagner As A Valkyrie. I Married Her And Made Her Give Up The Theatre, To My Eternal Cost. She Was To Go On Acting For Myself Alone. A Performance At His Own Expense, Lasting For More Than Twenty Years, Tends To Wear Out Your Spectator.

Life Is A Child Playing Round Your Feet, A Tool You Hold Firmly In Your Grip, A Bench You Sit Down Upon In The Evening, In Your Garden.