You Cannot Pluck Love Out Of Your

A Man's Own Vanity Is A Swindler That Never Lacks For A Dupe.

The Press Is Like A Woman: Sublime When It Lies, It Will Not Let Go Until It Has Forced You To Believe It. The Public, Like A Foolish Husband, Always Succumbs.

Coffee Falls Into The Stomach... Ideas Begin To Move, Things Remembered Arrive At Full Gallop... The Shafts Of Wit Start Up Like Sharp-shooters, Similes Arise, The Paper Is Covered With Ink...

A Sacrament By Virtue Of Which Each Imparts Nothing But Vexations To The Other.

The Most Real Of All Splendors Are Not In Outward Things, They Are Within Us.