Chance, My Dear, Is The Sovereign Deity

Pure Herring Oil Is The Port Wine Of English Cats

A Sacrament By Virtue Of Which Each Imparts Nothing But Vexations To The Other.

First Love Is A Kind Of Vaccination Which Saves A Man From Catching The Complaint The Second Time.

What Is A Child, Monsieur, But The Image Of Two Beings, The Fruit Of Two Sentiments Spontaneously Blended?

Constancy Will Always Be The Genius Of Love, The Indication Of That Strength Which Constitutes The Poet. A Man Should Possess All Women In His Wife, Like Those Squalid Poetasters Of The Seventeenth Century Who Made Fair Irises And Dazzling Chloes Of Their Lowly Manons.