People Are Either Born Hosts Or Born

Women Who Love The Same Man Have A Kind Of Bitter Freemasonry.

Every Kind Of Writing Is Hypocritical.

The Lower One's Vitality, The More Sensitive One Is To Great Art.

Few, As I Have Said, Are The Humorists Who Can Induce This State. To Master And Dissolve Us, To Give Us The Joy Of Being Worn Down And Tired Out With Laughter, Is A Success To Be Won By No Man Save In Virtue Of A Rare Staying-power. Laughter Becomes Extreme Only If It Be Consecutive. There Must Be No Pauses For Recovery. Touch-and-go Humour, However Happy, Is Not Enough. The Jester Must Be Able To Grapple His Theme And Hang On To It, Twisting It This Way And That, And Making It Yield Magically All Manner Of Strange And Precious Things.

A Hundred Eyes Were Fixed On Her, And Half As Many Hearts Lost To Her.