Perfumes Are The Feelings Of Flowers.

The Deepest Truth Blooms Only From The Deepest Love.

The Arrow Belongs Not To The Archer When It Has Once Left The Bow; The Word No Longer Belongs To The Speaker When It Has Once Passed His Lips, Especially When It Has Been Multiplied By The Press.

She Resembles The Venus De Milo: She Is Very Old, Has No Teeth, And Has White Spots On Her Yellow Skin.

The Fundamental Evil Of The World Arose From The Fact That The Good Lord Has Not Created Money Enough.

My Heart Resembles The Ocean; Has Storm, And Ebb And Flow; And Many A Beautiful Pearl Lies Hid In Its Depths Below.