graveyard of memory, a man is usually off pursuing a lot of little new loves in the garden of forgetfulness.
Life is like a poem or a story; the most important thing about it is not that it should be long, but that it should be beautiful and interesting.
The older a woman gets the more trusting she becomes; at twenty a man can feed her only diluted flattery; but at forty she can swallow it, straight, without a quiver.
No girl who is going to marry need bother to win a college degree; she just naturally becomes a "Master of Arts" and a "Doctor of Philosophy" after catering to an ordinary man for a few years.
The average man takes all the natural taste out of his food by covering it with ready-made sauces, and all the personality out of a woman by covering her with his ready-made ideals.
Heaven is
not
a mythical place. It can be found right down in the heart of the man who has found the work he loves and the woman he loves.
An ideal lover is one with such a keen dramatic instinct that he can convince himself of his sincerity—even when he knows that he is lying.
Love is a matter of chance; matrimony a matter of money, and divorce—a matter of course.
Adam was the first man to "misunderstand" a woman.
A man is like a park squirrel; if you fling your favors or your charms at his head he will never come up and eat out of your hand.
What a man calls his "conscience" is merely the mental action that follows a sentimental reaction after too much wine or love.
In the School of Love, a man is forever just taking up a brand new "study" and discovering that all the old loves were nothing but "preparatory practice."
The eugenic idea of choosing a husband would be perfectly lovely, only that a husband isn't a matter of choice, but of chance, accident or blind luck.
Love is woman's eternal spring, man's eternal fall.
It isn't beauty, and it isn't cleverness, and it isn't clothes that make a particular
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