I'm the walkingest girl around. I like to work at it - really get my heart pounding.
[As they say in the old legends]Before a man goes to the devil himself, he sends plenty of other souls thither.
Women are jealous of cigars. . . they regard them as a strong rival.
A fool can no more see his own folly than he can see his ears.
Almost all women have hearts full of pity.
At that comfortable tavern on Pontchartrain we had a bouillabaisse than which a better was never eaten at Marseilles; and not the least headache in the morning, I give you my word; on the contrary, you only wake with a sweet refreshing thirst for claret and water.
The world is good natured to people who are good natured.
Reading [poetry], you know, is rather like opening the door to a horde of rebels who swarm out attacking one in twenty places at once - hit, roused, scraped, bared, swung through the air, so that life seems to flash by; then again blinded, knocked on the head - all of which are agreeable sensations for a reader (since nothing is more dismal than to open the door and get no response).
Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets.
You can map out a light plan or a life plan, but when the action starts, it may not go the way you planned, and you're down to the reflexes you developed in training. That's where roadwork shows - the training you did in the dark of the mornin' will show when you're under the bright lights.
We need to create the beauty and the quality first. The quantity will follow.