It Is A Fine Seasoning For Joy

Innocence Is Not Accustomed To Blush. [fr., L'innocence A Rougir N'est Point Accoutumee.]

Writing Is Like Prostitution. First You Do It For Love, And Then For A Few Close Friends, And Then For Money.

Hypocrisy Is A Fashionable Vice, And All Fashionable Vices Pass For Virtue.

There Is No Reward So Delightful, No Pleasure So Exquisite, As Having One's Work Known And Acclaimed By Those Whose Applause Confers Honor.

Most People Die From The Remedy Rather Than From The Illness.