Perhaps too much of everything is as bad as too little.

Being an old maid is like death by drowning, a really delightful sensation after you cease to struggle.

Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling.

Living the past is a dull and lonely business; looking back strains the neck muscles, causing you to bump into people not going your way.

Roast beef, medium, is not only a food. It is a philosophy.

Life can't defeat a writer who is in love with writing, for life itself is a writer's lover until death.

Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling.