No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.

Women never throw themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and the damage perfectly.
They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching.
"Come up by the packet ?" "No; came up with _The Tigress_." "_The Tigress!_" The doctor laughed.

"You'd have hit it off better if you'd called her _The Sow_.

I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years.

Oh, I know.