Yep. Just you and me, Blanche. Unless you got somebody hid under the bed. What’ve you got on those fine feathers for?
Physical beauty is passing. A transitory possession. But beauty of the mind and richness of the spirit and tenderness of the heart—and I have all those things—aren’t taken away, but grow! Increase with the years!
There isn’t a goddam thing but imagination! And lies and conceit and tricks!