Happiness is a hardy annual.

I have little faith in the theory that organized killing is the best prelude to peace.

Youth is the season of tragedy and despair. Youth is the time when one's whole life is entangled in a web of identity, in a perpetual maze of seeking and of finding, of passion and of disillusion, of vague longings and of nameless griefs, of pity that is a blade in the heart, and of 'all the little emptiness of love.

... in the nineteen-thirties ... the most casual reader of murder mysteries could infallibly detect the villain, as soon as there entered a character who had recently washed his neck and did not commit mayhem on the English language.

To a thrifty theologian, bent on redemption with economy, there are few points of ethics too fine-spun for splitting.

It is difficult to deal successfully, he decided, with a woman whose feelings cannot be hurt.

In her abhorrrence of a vacuum, Nature, for the furtherance of her favorite hobby, has often to resort to strange devices. If she could but understand that vacuity is sometimes better than superfluity!