The madness of love can always be suspended – to cook dinner or catch a plane, for instance.
Lovers do all the talking and writing. What are the Beloveds thinking?
Lovers never want to say “I love you” at the same moment. Hence all the love stories.
Love talks and talks. Lust is brief and to the point.
Love Songs Now: Fewer broken hearts, more sexual misery.
King Kong, Count Dracula, and the Phantom of the Opera are just looking for love, like the rest of us.
I can neither return your love nor dismiss it.
Lovers always believe one another’s sleight-of-hand tricks.
I love you in my dreams, but not in real life.
Politics inflame the passions in a way that few beloveds can match.
Passion impels our deeds; ideology supplies the explanations.
Passion cooks. Reason cleans.
I am invigorated by work, wasted by pleasure.
Working cuts down on both folly and wisdom.
Nothing easier than to confuse busyness with goodness.
Work at first rescues us, then ravages us.
The pleasantest part of work is having done it.
Work saves us from melancholy. Pleasure exposes us to it.
I like what I do for a living. I also like NOT doing it – perhaps even more.
Wit puts politicians at risk.