The Rich Have A Passion For Bargains

I Always Believe Things Are Going To Work Out.

There Is No Such Thing As An Ideal Man. The Ideal Man Is The Man You Love At The Moment.

A Strange Melancholy Pervades Me To Which I Hesitate To Give The Grave And Beautiful Name Of Sorrow. The Idea Of Sorrow Has Always Appealed To Me But Now I Am Almost Ashamed Of It's Complete Egoism. I Have Known Boredom, Regret, And Occasionally Remorse, But Never Sorrow. Today It Envelops Me Like A Silken Web, Enervating And Soft, And Sets Me Apart From Everybody Else.

Love Lasts About Seven Years. That's How Long It Takes For The Cells Of The Body To Totally Replace Themselves.

The Questions I Would Have Liked To Ask People Were: ‘are You In Love? What Are You Reading?