Why is it that a woman can see from a distance what a man cannot see close?

The business of the poet and the novelist is to show the sorriness underlying the grandest things and the grandeur underlying the sorriest things.

When women are secret they are secret indeed; and more often then not they only begin to be secret with the advent of a second lover.

Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?

It was still early, and the sun's lower limb was just free of the hill, his rays, ungenial and peering, addressed the eye rather than the touch as yet.

Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

Some folk want their luck buttered.