There is a what-the-hell moment in life when you feel you have been pre-punished for every sin you'll ever commit.

It's not that perfection cannot be achieved. It's that it's so hard to stop there.

Perchance God will pity a race that sought the better angels of its nature and found only its lesser demons.

If you could eavesdrop on everything said about you, you'd spend most of your time waiting for the subject to come up.

It is still possible to have friendly discourse in America, as long as you don't bring up any subject.

Cherish the friend who tells you a harsh truth, wanting ten times more to tell you a loving lie.

There comes a time when a man and woman realize that their separate schemes can be better achieved as a conspiracy.