For masterpieces are not single and solitary births; they are the outcome of many years of thinking in common$$$ of thinking by the body of the people$$$ so that the experience of the mass is behind the single voice.

Her life was a tissue of vanity and deceit.

When the body escaped mutilation$$$ seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred.

Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you.

I don't know yet what I am capable of doing$$$ but$$$ by God$$$ I have genius -- I know it too well to blush behind it.

I can detach myself from the world. If there is a better world to detach oneself from than the one functioning at the moment I have yet to hear of it.

One of the Georges - I forget which - once said that a certain number of hours sleep each night - I cannot recall at the moment how many - made a man something which for the time being has slipped my memory.

She had more curves than a scenic railway.

If there is one thing I dislike$$$ it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.

Every one of us gets through the tough times because somebody is there$$$ standing in the gap to close it for us.