A husband is a guy who tells you when you've got on too much lipstick and helps you with your girdle when your hips stick.

When we start deceiving ourselves into thinking not that we want something or need something, not that it is a pragmatic necessity for us to have it, but that it is a moral imperative that we have it, then is when we join the fashionable madmen, and then is when the thin whine of hysteria is heard in the land, and then is when we are in bad trouble.

Moche Crye and no Wull.

A mind's frigidity: frozen steel, dark rage, morbidity. Cold fire.

Sisters define their rivalry in terms of competition for the gold cup of parental love. It is never perceived as a cup which runneth over, rather a finite vessel from which the more one sister drinks, the less is left over for the others.

Psychoanalysis is the mental illness it purports to cure.

I don't want to achieve immortality through my work... I want to achieve it by not dying!

The soul of God is poured into the world through the thoughts of men.

We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.

He who seeks for gain, must be at some expense.

Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself. -Tolstoy.

Beautiful young people are acts of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.

It's one of the tragic ironies of the theatre that only one man in it can count on steady work -- the night watchman.

I can tell thee where that saying was born, of 'I fear no colors.'

What doth it profit a man if he gains the who world and loses his own soul?

Almost no one is foolish enough to imagine that he automatically deserves great success in any field of activity; yet almost everyone believes that he automatically deserves success in marriage.

Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind, But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!

Live for Jesus now and spend the rest of eternity in the non-smoking section.

Out of our quarrels with others we make rhetoric. Out of our quarrels with ourselves we make poetry.

He comes, the herald of a noisy world, With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks; News from all nations lumbering at his back.