The war has jerked us pretty sharply into consciousness about this slug-a-bed sin of Sloth, and perhaps we need not say too much about it. But two warnings are rather necessary.

There is only one kind of wisdom that has any social value, and that is the knowledge of one's own limitations.

She couldn't have found anything nastier to say if she had thought it out with both hands for a fortnight.

But that's men all over ... Poor dears, they can't help it. They haven't got logical minds.

Death seems to provide the minds of the Anglo-Saxon race with a greater fund of amusement than any other single subject.

While time lasts there will always be a future, and that future will hold both good and evil, since the world is made to that mingled pattern.

you can give it a long name if you like, but I'm an old-fashioned woman and I call it mother-wit, and it's so rare for a man to have it that if he does you write a book about him and call him Sherlock Holmes.