In War-time A Man Is Called A

Human Beings Are Like Timid Punctuation Marks Sprinkled Among The Incomprehensible Sentences Of Life.

I Remember A Time When A Cabbage Could Sell Itself By Being A Cabbage. Nowadays It’s No Good Being A Cabbage – Unless You Have An Agent And Pay Him A Commission. Nothing Is Free Anymore To Sell Itself Or Give Itself Away. These Days, Countess, Every Cabbage Has Its Pimp.

Young Girls Are The Chatelaines Of Truth; They Must See That It Is Protected, That The Guilty Lead The Life Of The Guilty, Even If The World Rocks On Its Foundations.

There's A Kind Of Permission For War Which Can Be Given Only By The World's Mood And Atmosphere, The Feel Of Its Pulse. It Would Be Madness To Undertake A War Without That Permission.

Oh God, If You Want Women To Never Again Raise Their Voices, Then Create An Adult Man!