The writing career is not a romantic one. The writer's life may be colorful, but his work itself is rather drab.

A little work, a little sleep, a little love and it's all over

It's the safety valve of middle life, and the solace of age

Women are like dogs really. They love like dogs, a little insistently. And they like to fetch and carry and come back wistfully after hard words, and learn rather easily to carry a basket.

It's the safety valve of middle life, and the solace of age.

The great God endows His children variously. To some he gives intellect -- and they move the earth. To some he allots heart -- and the beating pulse of humanity is theirs. But to some He gives only a soul, without intelligence -- and these, who never grow up, but remain always His children, are God's fools, kindly, elemental, simple, as if from His palette the Artist of all had taken one color instead of many.