I am one of those unhappy persons who inspire bores to the greatest flights of art.
Still falls the rain – dark as the world of man, black as our loss – blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the Cross.
Good taste is the worst vice ever invented.
I wish the government would put a tax on pianos for the incompetent.
The poet speaks to all men of that other life of theirs that they have smothered and forgotten.
I am an unpopular electric eel in a pool of catfish.
The trouble with most Englishwomen is that they will dress as if they had been a mouse in a previous incarnation they do not want to attract attention.
I have often wished I had time to cultivate modesty… but I am too busy thinking about myself.