Life is a crowded superhighway with bewildering cloverleaf exits on which a man is liable to find himself speeding back in the direction he came.

I tried to write worse but it was no good; my generalizations came out as before, each more exquisite than the last. I grew discouraged.

Mrs Thicknesse and I agreed that a business of his own was probably the only solution for him because he was obviously unemployable.

We are not primarily put on this earth to see through one another, but to see one another through.

Why is the awfulness of families such a popular reason for starting another?

The satirist shoots to kill while the humorist brings his prey back alive and eventually releases him again for another chance.

Words fashioned with somewhat over precise diction are like shapes turned out by a cookie cutter.