Many of us are equal to life’s emergencies who cannot bear its day-after-dayness.
People find it hard to be both comic and serious, though life manages it easily enough.
Elegimos aquellos que nos gusta, con los que amamos, no tenemos voz en el asunto.
A woman ought to look up to her husband, if only a half-inch.
You can’t truthfully explain your smallest action without fully revealing your character.
Women are never landlocked: they’re always mere minutes away from the briny deep of tears.
Flesh goes on pleasuring us, and humiliating us, right to the end.
Suburb: a place that isn’t city, isn’t country, and isn’t tolerable.
We semaphore from ship to ship, but they’re sinking, too.
Comfort, or revelation: God owes us one of these, but surely not both.
Forget about calories – everything makes thin people thinner, and fat people fatter.
I’m afraid to win, and afraid to lose; I hate a draw and can’t stop competing; otherwise I’m fine.
The young are generally full of revolt, and are often pretty revolting about it.
At the beginning of a love affair, not even the neurotic is neurotic.
Puritans will never believe it, but life is full of disagreeable things that aren’t even good for you.
The plague of government is senile delinquency.
Neurosis is no worse than a bad cold; you ache all over, and it’s made you a mess, but you won’t die from it.
The neurotic feels as though trapped in a gas-filled room where at any moment someone, probably himself, will strike a match.
We have to call it “freedom”: who’d want to die for “a lesser tyranny”
There are whole years for which I hope I’ll never be cross-examined, for I could not give an alibi.