Etiquette requires the presumption of good until the contrary is proved.
Emily PostRead
In popular houses where visitors like to go again and again, there is always a happy combination of some attention on the part of the hostess and the perfect freedom of the guests to occupy their time as they choose.
Interpretation
A welcoming home balances hospitality with guest freedom.
This quote by Emily Post emphasizes the importance of creating a warm and inviting atmosphere in one's home that encourages visitors to return. It suggests that a successful gathering involves a harmonious interaction where the hostess provides attentive care while allowing guests the liberty to engage in their own activities, fostering a relaxed and enjoyable environment.
In practice
Use this quote during a speech about hosting successful gatherings.
Etiquette requires the presumption of good until the contrary is proved.
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.
An overdose of praise is like 10 lumps of sugar in coffee; only a very few people can swallow it.
Any child can be taught to be beautifully behaved with no effort greater than quiet patience and perseverance, whereas to break bad habits once they are acquired is a Herculean task.
Courtesy demands that you, when you are a guest, shall show neither annoyance nor disappointment--no matter what happens.
Every so often I would look at my women friends who were happily married and didn't cook, and I would always find myself wondering how they did it. Would anyone love me if I couldn't cook? I always thought cooking was part of the package: Step right up, it's Rachel Samstat, she's bright, she's funny and she can cook!
People say I train dogs, but in many ways I train people.
I will no longer allow anyone to manipulate my mind and control my life in the name of love.
Too many of us are lonely ministers practicing a lonely ministry.
He was afraid that the secrets she'd kept would always be here, inside him, an ugly malignant thing lodged near enough to his heart to upset its rhythm, and though it could be removed, cut out, there would always be scars; bits and pieces of it would remain in his blood, making it wrong somehow, so that if he accidentally sliced his skin open, his blood would--for one heartbeat--flow as black as India ink before it remembered that it should be red.
The fickleness of the women I love is only equalled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me.
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