A woman's best protection is a little money of her own.

Middle age is the way you would feel about summer if you knew there would never be another spring.

In the final analysis there is no other solution to man's progress but the day's honest work, the day's honest decision, the day's generous utterances, and the day's good deed.

Thoughts have no sex.

Lying increases the creative faculties, expands the ego, and lessens the frictions of social contacts.

The women who inspired this play deserved to be smacked across the head with a meat ax and that, I flatter myself, is exactly what I smacked them with.

What generally passes for 'thought' among the majority of mankind is the time one takes out to rearrange one's prejudices.