Riposte of "that old lady in the anecdote who was accused by her nieces of being illogical," Logic! Good gracious! What rubbish! How can I tell what I think till I see what I say?

One must be fond of people and trust them if one is not to make a mess of life.

Be soft, even if you stand to get squashed.

Our final experience, like our first, is conjectural. We move between two darkness's.

When love flies it is remembered not as love but as something else.

Do we find happiness so often that we should turn it off the box when it happens to sit there?

Hope, politeness, the blowing of a nose, the squeak of a boot, all produce "boum.