There Is Nothing Original; All Is Reflected

Your Women Of Fashion Ceases To Be A Woman. She Is Neither Mother, Nor Wife, Nor Lover. She Is, Medically Speaking, Sex On The Brain.

The Man Whose Action Habitually Bears The Stamp Of His Mind Is A Genius, But The Greatest Genius Is Not Always Equal To Himself, Or He Would Cease To Be Human.

Old Maids, Having Never Bent Their Temper Or Their Lives To Other Lives And Other Tempers, As Woman's Destiny Requires, Have For The Most Part A Mania For Making Everything About Them Bend To Them.

The First Thing Necessary To Win The Heart Of A Woman Is Opportunity.

Sensuality Is The Death Of The Soul.