Jealousy Is Not At All Low, But

The Only Virtue On Which I Pride Myself Is My Self-doubt; When A Writer Loses Her Self-doubt, The Time Has Come To Lay Aside Her Pen.

But What Is The Heart, Madame? It's Worth Less Than People Think. It's Quite Accommodating, It Accepts Anything. You Give It Whatever You Have, It's Not Very Particular. But The Body... Ha! That's Something Else Again! It Has A Cultivated Taste, As They Say, It Knows What It Wants. A Heart Doesn't Choose, And One Always Ends Up By Loving.

Hope Costs Nothing.

Be Happy. It's One Way Of Being Wise.

When She Raises Her Eyelids It's As If She Were Taking Off All Her Clothes.