“ Bicky rocked, like a jelly in a high wind. ”
The voice of Love seemed to call to me, but it was a wrong number.
~ P.g. Wodehouse
Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love, sir. It merely mummifies its corpse.
He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life and found a dead beetle at the bottom.
He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.
