It is hopeless for the occasional visitor to try to keep up with Chicago-she outgrows his prophecies faster than he can make them. She is always a novelty; for she is never the Chicago you saw when you passed through the last time.
Never have a battle of wits with an unarmed person.
That is the way we are made: we don't reason, where we feel; we just feel.
Wheresoever she was, there was Eden.
It was the schoolboy who said, ""Faith is believing what you know ain't so.""
There is nothing like instances to grow hair on a bald-headed argument.