Art Speaks Only To The Mind, Whereas

The Prayers Of A Lover Are More Imperious Than The Menaces Of The Whole World

A Cigar Numbs Sorrow And Fills The Solitary Hours With A Million Gracious Images.

Art Speaks Only To The Mind, Whereas Nature Speaks To All The Faculties.

Try To Keep Your Soul Young And Quivering Right Up To Old Age, And To Imagine Right Up To The Brink Of Death That Life Is Only Beginning. I Think That Is The Only Way To Keep Adding To One's Talent, And One's Inner Happiness.

We Do Not Precisely Enjoy Liberty At The Figaro. M. De Latouche, Our Worthy Director (ah! You Should Know The Fellow), Is Always Hanging Over Us, Cutting, Pruning, Right Or Wrong, Imposing Upon Us His Whims, His Aberrations, His Fancies, And We Have To Write As He Bids.