"She said that she would dance with me if I brought her red roses," cried the young Student; "but in all my garden there is no red rose." - Oscar Wilde

One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art.

You must have a cigarette. A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?

To be born, or at any rate bred, in a hand-bag, whether it had handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution.