You know, exams are like war -- the birth rate of ideas goes up. Anything to keep from this dismal regimen, says poor mind, and hopefully tosses up another distraction.

The only way I can possibly heat my so-called mind up to working temperature is to imagine I'm talking to someone I admire.

All I can say is that laughter is my music; I would deeply suspect an argument which hadn't laughter.

I've had too many experiences in my life of being the first woman in some damned occupation.

Absolutes are absolutely dangerous.

Anyone who shoots a real gun at you when drunk and angry is simply not husband material, regardless of his taste in literature.

Man is an animal whose dreams come true and kill him.