We almost always forgive those we understand.

Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfall, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea.

Afraid of decision, I buried my finer feelings in the depths of my heart and they died there.

We almost always forgive those we understand.

Women only love those that they don’t know.

I am like a mariner born and bred on board a buccaneer brig whose soul has become so inured to storm and strife that if cast ashore he would weary and languish no matter how alluring the shady groves and how bright the gentle sun.

We survive on novelty, so much less demanding than commitment.