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It is assumed that the woman must wait motionless until she is wooed. That is how the spider waits for the fly.

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The fickleness of the woman I love is equalled by the infernal constancy of the women who love me.

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The heart of an Irishman is nothing but his imagination

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Only on paper has humanity yet achieved glory, beauty, truth, knowledge, virtue, and abiding love.

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There is no love sincerer than the love of food.

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The true artist will let his wife starve, his children go barefoot, his mother drudge for his living at seventy, sooner than work at anything but his ...more

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What you are to do without me I cannot imagine.