I Hope I Shall Have Ambition Until

I Don't Have Any Warm Personal Enemies. All The Sobs Have Died.

But If God Had Wanted Us To Think Just With Our Wombs, Why Did He Give Us A Brain?

The Women Who Inspired This Play Deserved To Be Smacked Across The Head With A Meat Ax And That, I Flatter Myself, Is Exactly What I Smacked Them With.

Middle Age Is The Way You Would Feel About Summer If You Knew There Would Never Be Another Spring.

What Generally Passes For 'thought' Among The Majority Of Mankind Is The Time One Takes Out To Rearrange One's Prejudices.