Men should only believe half of what women say. But which half?

Everyone, when there's war in the air, learns to live in a new element: falsehood.

Death holds no horrors. It is simply the ultimate horror of life.

There's a kind of permission for war which can be given only by the world's mood and atmosphere, the feel of its pulse. It would be madness to undertake a war without that permission.

The man who discovers a woman's weakness is like the huntsman in the heat of the day who finds a cool spring. He wallows in it.

To win a woman in the first place you must please her, then undress her, and then somehow get her clothes back on her, finally, so that she will let you leave her, you've got to antagonise her.

Sadness flies on the wings of the morning, and out of the heart of darkness comes the light.