They say a woman always remembers her first lover with affection; but perhaps she does not always remember him. - William Somerset Maugham

You will hear people say that poverty is the best spur to the artist. They have never felt the iron of it in their flesh. They do not know how mean it makes you. It exposes you to endless humiliation, it cuts your wings, it eats into your soul like a cancer. It is not wealth one asks for, but just enough to preserve one's dignity, to work unhampered, to be generous, frank, and independent.

There was neither good nor bad there. There were just facts. It was life.

She was a fool and he knew it and because he loved her it had made no difference.