The neurotic thinks himself both Hamlet and Claudius, in a world that belongs to Polonius.

What's for dinner is the only question many husbands ask their wives, and the only one to which they care about the answer.

Neurotics are sure that no one understands them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

When the pressures really mount, the neurotic must choose: Shall he have a good cry, or set fire to his neighbor's house?

Character is what emerges from all the little things you were too busy to do yesterday, but did anyway.

Too much money is as demoralizing as too little, and there's no such thing as exactly enough.

When first we fall in love, we feel that we know all there is to know about life, and perhaps we are right.