Color does to me what the touch of the earth did to the giant Antaeus - sends new life, vitality, courage, initiative surging through me. Sometime the scientists will discover that color is a renewer of life.

Tragedy is chic but discontent is dowdy.

Real love, no matter how unworthy the object, is a glorious adventure. It bursts the shackles of selfishness. One's world is bigger, broader one's sympathies are amazingly more tender. No matter what the result, if you haven't really loved, you haven't really lived.

You'd be surprised to know how many heartaches, how many bitter disappointments, how many disasters that seem final when they come, we learn to survive and in time even to forget.