A man who has never made a woman angry is a failure in life.

Beauty is ever to the lonely mind a shadow fleeting she is never plain. She is a visitor who leaves behind the gift of grief, the souvenir of pain.

In every man's heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

All cities are mad: but the madness is gallant. All cities are beautiful: but the beauty is grim.

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.