A loving wife will do anything for her husband except stop criticizing him and trying to improve him.
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It's at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I don't know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind. I wish I believed, as J. B. Priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while. Three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around. Perhaps that's why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it! A bad night is not always a bad thing.
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Many a man is praised for his reserve and so-called shyness when he is simply too proud to risk making a fool of himself.
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One of the delights known to age, and beyond the grasp of youth, is that of Not Going.
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As we read the school reports on our children, we realize a sense of relief that can rise to delight that-thank Heaven-nobody is reporting in this fashion on us.
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Marriage is like paying an endless visit in your worst clothes.
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When I was young there was no respect for the young, and now that I am old there is no respect for the old. I missed out coming and going.
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Like its politicians and its wars, society has the teenagers it deserves.
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