Never say "Au revoir" unless you have been talking French, or are speaking to a French person.

Ideal conversation must be an exchange of thought, and not, as many of those who worry most about their shortcomings believe, an eloquent exhibition of wit or oratory.

Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.

Good manners reflect something from inside-an innate sense of consideration for others and respect for self.

Nothing is less important than which fork you use. Etiquette is the science of living. It embraces everything. It is ethics. It is honor.

If you are hurt, whether in mind or body, don't nurse your bruises. Get up, and light-heartedly, courageously, good-temperedly, get ready for the next encounter.

To make a pleasant and friendly impression is not alone good manners, but equally good business.

Never think, because you cannot write a letter easily, that it is better not to write at all. The most awkward note imaginable is better than none.

Manners are like primary colors, there are certain rules and once you have these you merely mix, i.e., adapt, them to meet changing situations.

The attributes of a great lady may still be found in the rule of the four S's: Sincerity, Simplicity, Sympathy, and Serenity.

Manner is personality—the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life.

I'm your friend, and friends don't let friends die.

Information may appear in a digital form but meaning never does.

Diet is weird. It's elusive. I just try to listen to my body.

MOUSE, n. An animal which strews its path with fainting women.

Too often we women try to tackle chaos that is not ours to fix.

The terrible thing about death is that it transforms life into destiny.

If I retire doing the character, I don't think the character has to retire. There will still be caricatures of Elvira. You know, Dracula still works, and he's dead.

But there is a big difference in working for the West and working for a totalitarian state.

I did not pray Him to lay bare The mystery to me, Enough the rose was Heaven to smell, And His own face to see.

We feel the machine slipping from our hands As if someone else were steering; If we see light at the end of the tunnel, It's the light of the oncoming train.