This is the gist of what I know: Give advice and buy a foe.

Marriage was all a woman's idea and for man's acceptance of the pretty yoke, it becomes us to be grateful.

One applauds the industry of professional philanthropy. But it has its dangers. After a while the private heart begins to harden. We fling letters into the wastebasket, are abrupt to telephoned solicitations. Charity withers in the incessant gale.

Meek-eyed parents hasten down the ramps To greet their offspring, terrible from camps.

A bit of trash now and then is good for the severest reader. It provides the necessary roughage in the literary diet.

A lady is smarter than a gentleman, maybe, she can sew a fine seam, she can have a baby, she can use her intuition instead of her brain, but she can't fold a paper in a crowded train.

Cocktail parties ... are usually not parties at all but mass ceremonials designed to clear up at one great stroke a wealth of obligations.