People struggled on for years with 'troubles,' but they almost always succumbed to 'complications.

When a man says he doesn't understand a woman it's because he won't take the trouble.

My little dog - a heartbeat at my feet.

She threw back her head with a laugh that made her chins ripple like little waves.

Everything about her was warm and soft and scented; even the stains of her grief became her as raindrops do the beaten rose.

The other producer of old age is habit: the deathly process of doing the same thing in the same way at the same hour day after day, first from carelessness, then from inclination, at last from cowardice or inertia. Luckily the inconsequent life is not the only alternative; for caprice is as ruinous as routine. Habit is necessary; it is the habit of having habits, of turning a trail into a rut, that must be incessantly fought against if one is to remain alive.

I think I like 'em better like that...divinely dull...just the quiet bearers of their own beauty, like the priestesses in a Panathenaic procession.