The neurotic lies awake at night, composing letters to those he hates. He seldom thinks of dropping a line to those he loves.

Men who don't like girls with brains don't like girls.

Fields can lie fallow but we can't; we have less time.

I know which side my bread is buttered on: the side which falls on the carpet.

A husband only worries about a particular Other Man; a wife distrusts her whole species.

There are three iron links in the neurotic's chain: unloving, unlovable, unloved.

Women flirt to keep their stock high, men to get somewhere.