"You grow more and more bitter."
"Does the world grow sweeter as one grows older?"
"Neither you nor I have lived long enough to know," answered Orsino.
"Facts make life long—not years."
"So long as they leave no sign of age, what does it matter?"
"I do not care for that sort of flattery."
"Because it is not flattery at all. You know the truth too well. I am not ingenious enough to flatter you, Madame. Perfection is not flattered when it is called perfect."
"It is at all events impossible to exaggerate better than you can," answered Maria Consuelo, laughing at last at the overwhelming compliment. "Where did you learn that?"
"At your feet, Madame. The contemplation of great masterpieces enlarges the intelligence and deepens the power of expression."
"And I am a masterpiece—of what? Of art? Of caprice? Of consistency?"