The Lady: a fluty voice, sensible shoes, a melancholy sense of living by rules few still remember.
Mars and Venus are at it again. This time, Hephaestus is standing by with a private detective, a photographer, and a lawyer.
The Olympian gods cannot have grand passions because they cannot die.
Man invented the gods. Then the gods went off on their own, but not far.
When science drove the gods out of nature, they took refuge in poetry and the porticos of civic buildings.
My love grows wide and shallow in an effort to spread my losses.
Without the blessing of cowardice, the world would long since have been torn to bits.
To succeed, find the right rut and stay with it.
I would enjoy experiencing the hollowness of success at first- hand.
I would be glad to worship success if I could find her.
My neglected duties crowd around me in my dreams, murmuring.
Duty is whatever opposes inclination.
Frivolous sorrow is folly. Frivolous enjoyment is not.
Victorian sorrow: the stars are winking in the sky, but not for us.
Sorrow also fulfills Desire. Example: the Soaps.
When Medusa looks in the mirror, she sees the Lady of Sorrows.
Good places for aphorisms: in fortune cookies, on bumper stickers, and on banners flying over the Palace of Free Advice.
The family is on its way out; couples go next; then no more keeping cats or parrots.
When disaster waves, I try not to wave back.
Thank God for the passing of the discomforts and vile cuisine of the age of chivalry!
By multiplying ironies, I evade commitments.
I feel affluent or not according to what part of town I am in.
Spirituality now wanders from sex to drugs to art to revolution to violence--whatever seems to promise deliverance from the quotidian.
Infallibility and invincible ignorance are the same thing.
Lechery is secretive, but must finally reveal itself to at least one.
