Smokers, Male And Female, Inject And Excuse

But What Is The Heart, Madame? It's Worth Less Than People Think. It's Quite Accommodating, It Accepts Anything. You Give It Whatever You Have, It's Not Very Particular. But The Body... Ha! That's Something Else Again! It Has A Cultivated Taste, As They Say, It Knows What It Wants. A Heart Doesn't Choose, And One Always Ends Up By Loving.

There Are Connoisseurs Of Blue Just As There Are Connoisseurs Of Wine.

Sit Down And Put Down Everything That Comes Into Your Head And Then You're A Writer. But An Author Is One Who Can Judge His Own Stuff's Worth, Without Pity, And Destroy Most Of It.

So Now, Whenever I Despair, I No Longer Expect My End, But Some Bit Of Luck, Some Commonplace Little Miracle Which, Like A Glittering Link, Will Mend Again The Necklace Of My Days.

There Are No Ordinary Cats.