A Guide to Men Being Encore Reflections of a Bachelor Girl
climb.

   True Love is a relic of the Victorian Age.

   It still exists, here and there, like the buffalo; but in the face of eugenics, feminism, and the growing masculine determination not to marry, it may some day have to take a place beside the Dinosaurus in the Public Museum.

   Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common-sense.

   In the medley of love a man's soul sings a sonata, while his heart plays a waltz and his pulse beats to rag-time.

   Better be a strong man's "rib" than a weak man's "backbone."

   True love isn't the kind that endures through long years of absence, but the kind that endures through long years of propinquity.

   A man seldom thinks of marrying when he meets his ideal woman; he waits until he gets the marrying fever and then idealizes the first woman he happens to meet.

   Love is what tempts a man to tell foolish lies to a woman and a woman to tell the fool truth to a man.

   It took seven hundred guesses for Solomon to find out what kind of a wife he wanted; and even then he seems to have had his doubts.

   The only thing more astonishing than the length of time a man's love will subsist on nothing is the celerity with which it is surfeited the moment it has any encouragement to feed on.

   Even when a man knows that he wants to marry a woman, she has to prove it to him with a diagram before he is really convinced of it.

   A man is so apt to mistake his love of experiment for love of a woman that half the time he doesn't know which is which.

   Why is it that a man never thinks he has tasted the cup of joy unless he has splashed it all over himself, as though it were his morning bath?

   A man is so versatile that he can read his newspaper with one set of brain-cells while he carries on a conversation with his wife with another set.

   A girl hides her emotions under a veil of modesty, a spinster under a cloak of cynicism, a wife under a mantle of tact, and a widow under a cloud of mystery—and then women wonder why they are "misunderstood."

   Proposing is a sort of acrobatic feat, in 
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