Those who welcome death have only tried it from the ears up.
To my embarrassment I was born in bed with a lady.
I know of no sentence that can induce such immediate and brazen lying as the one that begins, 'Have you read - .'
Failure has gone to his head.
What feeling is so nice as a child's hand in yours? So small, so soft and warm, like a kitten huddling in the shelter of your clasp.
Popularity is exhausting. The life of the party almost always winds up in a corner with an overcoat over him.