In Matters Of Money There's

It Is Restful, Tragedy, Because One Knows That There Is No More Lousy Hope Left. You Know You're Caught, Caught At Last Like A Rat With All The World On Its Back. And The Only Thing Left To Do Is Shout - Not Moan, Or Complain, But Yell Out At The Top Of Your Voice Whatever It Was You Had To Say. What You've Never Said Before. What Perhaps You Don't Even Know Till Now.

What Fun It Would Be To Be Poor, As Long As One Was Excessively Poor! Anything In Excess Is Most Exhilarating

When You Are Forty, Half Of You Belongs To The Past... And When You Are Seventy, Nearly All Of You.

Love Is, Above All, The Gift Of Oneself.

Things Are Beautiful If You Love Them.