Whatever we worship, short of God, is sure to be our undoing.

Most of us would rather risk catastrophe than read the directions.

The past is strapped to our backs. We do not have to see it; we can always feel it.

Love requires a willingness to die; marriage, a willingness to live.

We are all such a waste of our potential, like three-way lamps using one-way bulbs.

How can a man marry wisely in his twenties? The girl he's going to wind up wanting hasn't even been born.

Failure can get to be a rather comfortable old friend.