The neurotic is always half-drowning in anxiety, and always being half-rescued.
Women are afraid of mice and of murder, and of very little in between.
We waste a lot of time running after people we could have caught by just standing still.
We have a terror of seeming to exert ourselves, lest it be noticed that we exerted ourselves and did not succeed.
After the chills and fever of love, how nice is the 98.6 degrees of marriage.
Neurotics have plenty of non-neurotic friends, but not for long.