People Who Climb From One Rung Of

One Of The Glories Of Society Is To Have Created Woman Where Nature Had Made Only A Female; To Have Created A Continuity Of Desire Where Nature Thought Only Of Perpetuating The Species; And, In Fine, To Have Invented Love.

Those Sweetly Smiling Angels With Pensive Looks, Innocent Faces, And Cash-boxes For Hearts.

A Mother's Life, You See, Is One Long Succession Of Dramas, Now Soft And Tender, Now Terrible. Not An Hour But Has Its Joys And Fears.

The Prodigality Of Millionaires Is Comparable Only To Their Greed Of Gain. Let Some Whim Or Passion Seize Them And Money Is Of No Account. In Fact These Croesuses Find Whims And Passions Harder To Come By Than Gold.

You Cannot Pluck Love Out Of Your Heart As You Would Pull A Tooth.