Women speak because they wish to speak, whereas a man speaks only when driven to speech by something outside himself--like, for instance, he can't find any clean socks.
The most casual examination will reveal the fact that all the jokes about the horrible results of masculine cooking and sewing are written by men. It is all part of a great scheme of sex propaganda.
There are two different theories to arguing with women. Neither one works.
Bachelors know more about women than married men. If they didn’t they’d be married too.
No man is ever too old to look at a woman, and no woman is ever too fat to hope that he will look.
Temptation is the woman’s weapon and the man’s excuse.
When a woman says she won’t, it is a good sign that she will. And when she says she will it is an even better sign.
When I die, I wish to comeback as one of her tears. What man would be so lucky as to have been conceived in her heart, born in her eyes, live on her cheeks, and die at her lips.
When women kiss it always reminds one of prizefighters shaking hands.
I find men terribly exciting, and any girl who says she doesn’t is an anemic old maid, a streetwalker, or a saint.
Listless: what men become when their wives don’t give them a list.
Needing a man is like needing a parachute. If he isn’t there the first time you need him, chances are you won’t be needing him again.
Women give to men the very gold of their lives, but they invariably want it back in small change.
Woman begins by resisting a man’s advances and ends by blocking his retreat.
Every woman is a rebel, and usually in violent revolt against herself.
A bad man is the sort of man who admires innocence, and a bad woman is the sort of woman a man never gets tired of.
Old boys have their playthings as well as young ones; the difference is only in the price.
I’ll promise to go easier on drinking and to get to bed earlier, but not for you, fifty thousand dollars, or two hundred and fifty thousand dollars will I give up women. They’re too much fun.
I love the women’s movement -- especially when walking behind it.
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I knew her better than herself …and she was beautiful and strong and felt deep. It has always surprised me to see the way she saw herself; how little she thought about her person. It struck me as surprising because every single time I’ve seen her, I’ve thought her larger than life. And that’s why the world feared her. Because they couldn’t compare to her; she raised a new bar for others to be measured by. Because looking at the sun hurts…and she was that to me. My own piece of sky.
Aisha…is it wrong of me to wish you to break a leg? Into many tiny, little pieces? And when or if it heals…would it be too much to hope it ends up looking in the wrong direction…like backwards? Because I truly do. From the bottom of my little, black heart.” She crossed her fingers over said thing.