A woman ought to look up to her husband, if only a half-inch.
We are irritated by rascals, intolerant of fools, and prepared to love the rest. But where are they?
There's an awful lot of blood around that water is thicker than.
We can never at any time absorb more love than we're ready for.
The marriage of convenience has this to recommend it: we are better judges of convenience than we are of love.
Not for nothing does the neurotic suffer - but not for anything very much, either.