To be happy with a man you must understand him a lot and love him a little. To be happy with a woman you must love her a lot and not try to understand her at all.
A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.
The woman who appeals to a man's vanity may stimulate him, the woman who appeals to his heart may attract him, but it is the woman who appeals to his imagination who gets him.
A Bachelor of Arts is one who makes love to a lot of women, and yet has the art to remain a bachelor.
Nowadays love is a matter of chance, matrimony a matter of money and divorce a matter of course.
A husband is what is left of a lover, after the nerve has been extracted.
Falling in love consists merely in uncorking the imagination and bottling the common sense.
Home is any four walls that enclose the right person.
A man snatches the first kiss, pleads for the second, demands the third, takes the fourth, accepts the fifth - and endures all the rest.
A man's heart may have a secret sanctuary where only one woman may enter, but it is full of little anterooms which are seldom vacant.
Before marriage, a man will lie awake thinking about something you said; after marriage , he'll fall asleep before you finish saying it.
Love, the quest; marriage, the conquest; divorce, the inquest.
Love: woman's eternal spring and man's eternal fall.
Love will never be ideal until man recovers from the illusion that he can be just a little bit faithful or a little bit married.
There are more ways of killing a man's love than by strangling it to death, but that's the usual way.
Soft, sweet things with a lot of fancy dressing - that's what a little boy loves to eat and a grown man prefers to marry.
Telling lies is a fault in a boy, an art in a lover, an accomplishment in a bachelor, and second-nature in a married man.
What a man calls his 'conscience' is merely the mental action that follows a sentimental reaction after too much wine or love.
It is easier to keep half a dozen lovers guessing than to keep one lover after he has stopped guessing.
Between lovers a little confession is a dangerous thing.
Love is woman's eternal spring and man's eternal fall. It is a game at which men must play against stacked cards, and without the slightest inkling of the trump.
Variety is the spice of love.
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