Neurotic quarrels always have the same theme-song: Hate me and get it over with.
Women are the right age for just a few years; men, for most of their lives.
We choose those we like; with those we love, we have no say in the matter.
We come late, if at all, to wine and philosophy: whiskey and action are easier.
Life is a mixed blessing, which we vainly try to unmix.
It's hard to feel middle-aged, because how can you tell how long you are going to live?