Men Go To The Theatre To Forget;

A Poet, Any Real Poet, Is Simply An Alchemist Who Transmutes His Cynicism Regarding Human Beings Into An Optimism Regarding The Moon, The Stars, The Heavens, And The Flowers, To Say Nothing Of Spring, Love, And Dogs.

A Ready Way To Lose Your Friend Is To Lend Him Money. Another Equally Ready Way To Lose Him Is To Refuse To Lend Him Money. It Is Six Of One And A Half Dozen Of The Other.

A Man Admires A Woman Not For What She Says, But What She Listens To.

All That Is Necessary To Raise Imbecility Into What The Mob Regards As Profundity Is To Lift It Off The Floor And Put It On A Platform.

Criticism Is The Windows And Chandeliers Of Art: It Illuminates The Enveloping Darkness In Which Art Might Otherwise Rest Only Vaguely Discernible, And Perhaps Altogether Unseen.