Worry is a dividend paid to disaster before it is due.
Loneliness becomes a lover, solitude a darling sin.
Bond didn’t defend the practice. He simply maintained that the more effort and ingenuity you put into gambling, the more you took out.
Love of life is born of the awareness of death, of the dread of it.
He was a secret agent, and still alive thanks to his exact attention to the detail of his profession.
History is moving pretty quickly these days, and the heroes and villains keep on changing parts.
Older women are best because they always think they may be doing it for the last time.
Surround yourself with human beings, my dear James. They are easier to fight for than principles.
As for sex, well, I mean sex is a perfectly respectable subject as far as Shakespeare is concerned. I mean, all history is love and violence.
Never job backwards. What might have been was a waste of time.
Bond reflected that good Americans were fine people and that most of them seemed to come from Texas.
Luck in all its moods had to be loved and not feared. Bond saw luck as a woman, to be softly wooed or brutally ravaged, never pandered to or pursued.
It was the short men that caused all the trouble in the world.
Men want a woman whom they can turn on and off like a light switch.
Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action.
At gambling, the deadly sin is to mistake bad play for bad luck.
Hope makes a good breakfast. Eat plenty of it.
Most marriages don’t add two people together. They subtract one from the other.
He could not just wear a watch. It had to be a Rolex.
My mental hands were empty, and I felt I must do something as a counterirritant or antibody to my hysterical alarm at getting married at the age of 43.