“The Germans and I no longer speak the same language.”

The average man is more interested in a woman who is interested in him than he is in a woman with beautiful legs.

They want you to bring out your intestines.

There’s something about an American soldier you can’t explain. They’re so grateful for anything, even a film actress coming to see them.

Without tenderness, a man is uninteresting.

Grumbling is the death of love.

I am at heart a gentleman.

I love quotations because it is a joy to find thoughts one might have, beautifully expressed with much authority by someone recognized wiser than oneself.

Darling, the legs aren’t so beautiful, I just know what to do with them.

Latins are tenderly enthusiastic. In Brazil they throw flowers at you. In Argentina they throw themselves.

I’m worth more dead than alive. Don’t cry for me after I’m gone; cry for me now.

When you’re dead, you’re dead. That’s it.

America took me into her bosom when there was no longer a country worthy of the name, but in my heart I am German – German in my soul.

Glamour is what I sell, it’s my stock in trade.

A man would prefer to come home to an unmade bed and a happy woman than to a neatly made bed and an angry woman.

I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men.

You need a man you can look up to and respect. If you dethrone him it’s no wonder that you are discontented, and discontented women are not loved for long.

Every language is so full of its own proprieties that what is beautiful in one is often barbarous, nay, sometimes nonsense, in another.

At a priesthood meeting… the strongest language in regard to Plural Marriage was used that I ever heard

Mere elegance of language can produce at best but an empty renown.

Language is the biggest barrier to human progress because language is an encyclopedia of ignorance. Old perceptions are frozen into language and force us to look at the world in an old fashioned way.

We have too many high-sounding words, and too few actions that correspond with them.

An author accepting language’s invitation to dance steps onto the floor of his her sensibility-charged consciousness and begins to move instinctively–even if with much dread

Most human beings know only the language of exploitation. Due to their selfishness, they are unable to consider others.

As for rosemary, I let it run all over my garden walls, not only because my bees love it but because it is the herb sacred to remembrance and to friendship, whence a sprig of it hath a dumb language.