It Is A Poor Wit

When You Doubt Between Words, Use The Plainest, The Commonest, The Most Idiomatic. Eschew Fine Words As You Would Rouge; Love Simple Ones As You Would The Native Roses On Your Cheek.

Dress Is An Index Of Your Contents.

He Who, Silent, Loves To Be With Us - He Who Loves Us In Our Silence - Has Touched One Of The Keys That Ravish Hearts.

The Most Stormy Ebullitions Of Passion, From Blasphemy To Murder, Are Less Terrific Than One Single Act Of Cool Villainy.

If You See One Cold And Vehement At The Same Time, Set Him Down For A Fanatic.