Men Create Real Miracles When They Use

Life Is Very Nice, But It Lacks Form. It's The Aim Of Art To Give It Some.

My Wife Was An Opera Singer, You Know. She Bellowed Her Way Through Wagner As A Valkyrie. I Married Her And Made Her Give Up The Theatre, To My Eternal Cost. She Was To Go On Acting For Myself Alone. A Performance At His Own Expense, Lasting For More Than Twenty Years, Tends To Wear Out Your Spectator.

In Your Efforts To Dazzle Us Your Reasoning Has Gone Awry. You Know Very Well That Love Is, Above All, The Gift Of Oneself.

Believe Me; All Evil Comes From The Old. They Grow Fat On Ideas And Young Men Die Of Them.

Propaganda Is A Soft Weapon; Hold It In Your Hands Too Long, And It Will Move About Like A Snake, And Strike The Other Way.