Children Are Given Us To Discourage Our

I Love Americans, But Not When They Try To Talk French. What A Blessing It Is That They Never Try To Talk English.

Hors D'oeuvres Have Always A Pathetic Interest For Me; They Remind Me Of One's Childhood That One Goes Through Wondering What The Next Course Is Going To Be Like - And During The Rest Of The Menu One Wishes One Had Eaten More Of The Hors D'oeuvres.

The Young Have Aspirations That Never Come To Pass, The Old Have Reminiscences Of What Never Happened.

To Be Clever In The Afternoon Argues That One Is Dining Nowhere In The Evening.

Life Is Full Of Its Disappointments, And I Suppose The Art Of Being Happy Is To Disguise Them As Illusions.