It was one of those cases where you approve the broad, general principle of an idea but can't help being in a bit of a twitter at the prospect of putting it into practical effect. I explained this to Jeeves, and he said much the same thing had bothered Hamlet.

Luck is a goddess not to be coerced and forcibly wooed by those who seek her favours. From such masterful spirits she turns away. But it happens sometimes that, if we put our hand in hers with the humble trust of a little child, she will have pity on us, and not fail us in our hour of need.

Rex Stout's narrative and dialogue could not be improved, and he passes the supreme test of being rereadable. I don't know how many times I have reread the Wolfe stories, but plenty. I know exactly what is coming and how it is all going to end, but it doesn't matter. That's writing.

A girl who bonnets a policeman with an ashcan full of bottles is obviously good wife-and-mother timber.

Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love, sir. It merely mummifies its corpse.

It is not mere technical skill that makes a man a golfer, it is the golfing soul.

And she's got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantity the girl who marries you will need.