The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late.

People who have what they want are very fond of telling people who haven't what they want that they don't want it.

I think remorse ought to stop biting the consciences that feed it.

In the world of mules there are no rules.

Some people's money is merited and other people's is inherited.

Linguistics becomes an ever eerier area, like I feel like I'm in Oz, Just trying to tell it like it was.

The only incurable troubles of the rich are the troubles that money can't cure, Which is a kind of trouble that is even more troublesome if you are poor.