A Lover Would Find Life

For The Hearts Of Nurses Are Solid Gold, / But Their Heels Are Flat And Their Hands Are Cold, / And Their Voices Lilt With A Lilt That's Falser / Than The Smile Of An Exhibition Waltzer. / Yes, Nurses Can Cure You, Nurses Restore You, / But Nurses Are Bound That They Do Things For You.

The Mass Of Men Live Lives Of Quiet Exasperation.

Marriage Was All A Woman's Idea And For Man's Acceptance Of The Pretty Yoke, It Becomes Us To Be Grateful.

Women Are The Fulfilled Sex. Through Our Children We Are Able To Produce Our Own Immortality, So We Lack That Divine Restlessness Which Sends Men Charging Off In Pursuit Of Fortune Or Fame Or An Imagined Utopia. That Is Why We Number So Few Geniuses Among Us. The Wholesome Oyster Wears No Pearl, The Healthy Whale No Ambergris, And As Long As We Can Keep On Adding To The Race, We Harbor A Sort Of Health Within Ourselves.

Men Can't Be Trusted With Pruning Shears Any More Than They Can Be Trusted With The Grocery Money In A Delicatessen . . . They Are Like Boys With New Pocket Knives Who Will Not Stop Whittling.