This I believe:
America has a lot to answer for.
The truth is stranger than bad fiction, but not stranger than good fiction.
The Chicago Cubs will rise again, but not soon.
Women shall inherit the earth, but not all at once. (Some parts locally they have already inherited).
Virginia is no more for lovers than anyplace else.
Anyplace is for lovers, as any cop will tell you.
Don’t ask what your country can do for you, ask your country for a passport.
Most of us are not worthy of these fabulous intricate bodies they gave us.
Nobody has any idea how bad it really is.
The truth is as plain as the nose on your face, which is invisible to me.
Bad things come in threes, in threes, in threes.
If there’s pie in the sky when you die, there will be a squabble over who gets to eat it.
If you don’t have to ask, you can afford to regret it.
Nice guys don’t necessarily finish last, or at all.
Good things come in packages that may be vanishingly small.
It’s almost always worth the trouble to pick a quarter off the sidewalk.
Dimes and nickels, not so much.
A thing of beauty is not a joy forever, but better than a swift kick in the slats.
The ratio of people who believe they like jazz to the number who have listened to it for five minutes consecutively in the past year is something like 1000 to 1.
Men are from Mars. Golf balls are from Mercury.
Humans are biologically prepared to learn easily to behave badly.
Humans are biologically prepared to learn laboriously to behave well.
My dog’s better than your dog. Seriously.
People care more for their pets than their fellow man.
People are biologically prepared to care more for their pets than anyone except first degree human relatives.
The heart of man is dark, dark. Fortunately, he may have a sense of humor.
Good luck tends to come to those who deserve it.
Bad luck is mostly random.
If there is no God but God, he does not think about things the way we do.
We have nothing to fear but fear itself sounds good, but can’t be true.
Life is short, and some tiny proportion of art is a bit longer.
Mottos are for dimwits.
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