Women have served all these centuries as looking glasses possessing the power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size.

But I don't think of the future, or the past, I feast on the moment. This is the secret of happiness, but only reached now in middle age.

I prefer men to cauliflowers

Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped.

No passion is stronger in the breast of a man than the desire to make others believe as he believes. Nothing so cuts at the root of his happiness and fills him with rage as the sense that another rates low what he prizes high.

With twice his wits, she had to see things through his eyes -- one of the tragedies of married life.

After all, what is a lovely phrase? One that has mopped up as much Truth as it can hold.