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Your Idea Of Bliss Is To Wake Up On A Monday Morning Knowing You Haven't A Single Engagement For The Entire Week. You Are Cradled In A White Paper Cocoon Tied Up With Typewriter Ribbon.

There Are Two Ways Of Doing Battle Against Disgrace. You May Live It Down; Or You May Run Away From It And Hide. The First Method Is Heart-breaking, But Sure. The Second Cannot Be Relied Upon Because Of The Uncomfortable Way Disgrace Has Of Turning Up At Your Heels.

Being An Old Maid Is Like Death By Drowning, A Really Delightful Sensation After You Cease To Struggle.

But Always, To Her, Red And Green Cabbages Were To Be Jade And Burgundy, Chrysoprase And Prophyry. Life Has No Weapons Against A Woman Like That.

Perhaps Too Much Of Everything Is As Bad As Too Little.