The Rich Have A Passion

Every Little Girl Knows About Love. It Is Only Her Capacity To Suffer Because Of It That Increases.

A Strange Melancholy Pervades Me To Which I Hesitate To Give The Grave And Beautiful Name Of Sorrow. The Idea Of Sorrow Has Always Appealed To Me But Now I Am Almost Ashamed Of It's Complete Egoism. I Have Known Boredom, Regret, And Occasionally Remorse, But Never Sorrow. Today It Envelops Me Like A Silken Web, Enervating And Soft, And Sets Me Apart From Everybody Else.

Passion Is The Salt Of Life, And That At The Times When We Are Under Its Spell This Salt Is Indispensable To Us, Even If We Have Got Along Very Well Without It Before.

The Rich Have A Passion For Bargains As Lively As It Is Pointless.

It Amused Me To Think That One Can Tell The Truth When One Is Drunk And Nobody Will Believe It.