Among The Monsters, I Am Well Hidden;

The Clown May Be The Source Of Mirth, But - Who Shall Make The Clown Laugh?

The Only Time I Ever Iron The Sheets Or Make Meringues Is When There Is An ... Urgent Deadline In The Offing.

Art Need No Longer Be An Account Of Past Sensations.

And, Conversely, She Went On To Herself, Sneering At The Grand Duke's Palace, Poverty Is Wasted On The Poor, Who Never Know How To Make The Best Of Things, Are Only The Rich Without Money, Are Just As Useless At Looking After Themselves, Can't Handle Their Cash Just Like The Rich Can't, Always Squandering It On Bright, Pretty, Useless Things In Just The Same Way.

At The Best Of Times, Spring Hurts Depressives.