Women are like those blinkin' little Greek islands, places to call at but not to stay.

If memory survived eternally, then indeed there might be justification for a belief in hell.

Unless you are a Bernard Shaw you find a preface a most embarrassing business.

One lives everything down in time.

Women are like those blinkin' little Greek islands, places to call at but not to stay.

Memory, with its fugitive adjustments, is the merciful veil to the grim enactments of the first law. It hides the anguish in the human heart which is always craving for perpetuity.

The basic trouble is that people make statements without sufficient data.