Everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden.
If I were to search for logic, I would not look for it among the English upper class.
First electricity, now telephones. Sometimes I feel as if I'm living in an H.G. Wells novel.
Love is a far more dangerous motive than dislike.
Principles are like prayers; noble, of course, but awkward at a party.
It's the job of grandmothers to interfere.