Truth is the ricochet of a prejudice bouncing off a fact.

Truth is what every man sees lurking at the bottom of his own soul, like the oyster shell housewives put in the kitchen kettle to collect the lime from the water. By and by each man's iridescent oyster shell of Truth becomes coated with the lime of prejudice and hearsay.

Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.

There are a lot of people who must have the table laid in the usual fashion or they will not enjoy the dinner.

People like to imagine that because all our mechanical equipment moves so much faster, that we are thinking faster, too.

The plural of spouse is spice.

That's what this country needs -- more books!