The fellow that owns his own home is always just coming out of a hardware store.
It’s going to be fun to watch and see how long the meek can keep the earth once they inherit it.
A loafer always has the correct time.
It ain’t a bad plan to keep still occasionally even when you know what you’re talking about.
No woman can be handsome by the force of features alone, any more that she can be witty by only the help of speech.
It’s the good loser who finally loses out.
Some fellows get credit for being conservative when they are only stupid.
Every once in a while someone without a single bad habit gets caught.
As to those who hoard gold and silver and spend it not in God’s path, give them, then, the tidings of a painful agony: on a day when these things shall be heated in hell-fire, and their foreheads, and their sides, and their backs shall be branded therewith.
Politics makes strange post-masters.
My idea of walking into the jaws of death is marrying some woman who has lost three husbands.
Every father expects his boy to do the things he wouldn’t do when he was young.
All the world loves a good loser.
The only time some fellows are seen with their wives is after they’re indicted.
I’m sorry to inform you that your 50 year warranty has expired on your back, knees, and memory. Luckily your lifetime warranty on your heart is still in effect. Of course, that becomes void and expires when you do.
Another bad thing about “prosperity” is that you can’t jingle any money without being under suspicion.
When some fellers decide to retire nobody knows the difference.
I haven’t heard of anybody who wants to stop living on account of the cost.
Nobody works as hard for his money as the man who marries it.
Bees are not as busy as we think they are. They jest can’t buzz any slower.