The Aim Of Flattery Is

I Wouldn't Dream Of Following A Fashion... How Could One Be A Different Person Every Three Months?

Said The Sun To The Moon-'when You Are But A Lonely White Crone, And I, A Dead King In My Golden Armour Somewhere In A Dark Wood, Remember Only This Of Our Hopeless Love That Never Till Time Is Done Will The Fire Of The Heart And The Fire Of The Mind Be One

... All Ugliness Passes, And Beauty Endures, Excepting Of The Skin.

I'm Afraid I'm Being An Awful Nuisance.

Picasso Was A Delightful, Kindly, Friendly, Simple Little Man. When I Met Him He Was Extremely Excited And Overjoyed That His Mother-in-law Had Just Died, And He Was Looking Forward To The Funeral.