Oh, Jo, How Could You? Your One

Love Is Apt To Make Lunatics Of Even Men And Saints.

At Twenty-five, Girls Begin To Talk About Being Old Maids, But Secretly Resolve That They Never Will. At Thirty, They Say Nothing About It, But Quietly Accept The Fact.

We Don't Choose Our Talents; But We Needn't Hide Them In A Napkin Because They Are Not Just What We Want.

If We Are All Alive Ten Years Hence, Let's Meet, And See How Many Of Us Have Got Our Wishes, Or How Much Nearer We Are Then Than Now.

Self-pity In Its Early Stages Is As Snug As A Feather Mattress. Only When It Hardens Does It Become Uncomfortable.