I just know that there are two theories when arguing with women. And neither one works.
Sing of the nature of women, and then the song shall be surely full of variety; old crotchets and most sweet closes. It shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one.
People don't forget. Nothing gets forgiven.
Men are born, and then they're formed.
Looks like the good Lord got your ass and face mixed up.
We all have problems, and we must solve them together or we die alone.