fortune index all fortunes
|#6968||American culture is based on the automobile, and any young man of promise|
is going to own one and want to travel great distances in it. Consequently,
any young woman of aspiration should expect to spend most of her vacations
in a car, probing into unfamiliar corners. She is not required to know how
to drive but she will certainly be expected to read the road map while her
husband drives, and if she can't, or if she's abnormally slow in giving him
help, she's bound to cause trouble. Therefore, you'd think that colleges
which train the bright young women who're going to marry the bright young
men who are going to own the Cadillacs that roar back and forth across this
continent would teach the girls to read maps. None do. They teach a hundred
other useless things, but never a word about the one that will cause the
-- James Michener, "Space"
|#6969|| An airplane pilot got engaged to two very pretty women at the same|
time. One was named Edith; the other named Kate. They met, discovered they
had the same fiancee, and told him. "Get out of our lives you rascal. We'll
teach you that you can't have your Kate and Edith, too."
|#6970||An optimist is a man who looks forward to marriage.|
A pessimist is a married optimist.
|#6971||"And what do you two think you are doing?!" roared the husband, as he came|
upon his wife in bed with another man. The wife turned and smiled at her
"See?" she said. "I told you he was stupid!"
|#6972||And yet I should have dearly liked, I own, to have touched her lips; to|
have questioned her, that she might have opened them; to have looked upon
the lashes of her downcast eyes, and never raised a blush; to have let
loose waves of hair, an inch of which would be a keepsake beyond price:
in short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest
license of a child, and yet been man enough to know its value.
-- Charles Dickens
|#6973||Another greeting card category consists of those persons who send out|
photographs of their families every year. In the same mail that brought the
greetings from Marcia and Philip, my friend found such a conversation piece.
"My God, Lida is enormous!" she exclaimed. I don't know why women want to
record each year, for two or three hundred people to see, the ravages wrought
upon them, their mates, and their progeny by the artillery of time, but
between five and seven per cent of Christmas cards, at a rough estimate, are
family groups, and even the most charitable recipient studies them for little
signs of dissolution or derangement. Nothing cheers a woman more, I am afraid,
than the proof that another woman is letting herself go, or has lost control
of her figure, or is clearly driving her husband crazy, or is obviously
drinking more than is good for her, or still doesn't know what to wear.
Middle-aged husbands in such photographs are often described as looking
"young enough to be her son," but they don't always escape so easily, and a
couple opening envelopes in the season of mercy and good will sometimes handle
a male friend or acquaintance rather sharply. "Good Lord!" the wife will say.
"Frank looks like a sex-crazed shotgun slayer, doesn't he?" "Not to me," the
husband may reply. "to me he looks more like a Wilkes-Barre dentist who is
being sought by the police in connection with the disappearance of a choir
-- James Thurber, "Merry Christmas"
|#6974||Any girl can be glamorous; all you have to do is stand still and look stupid.|
-- Hedy Lamarr
|#6975||Any woman is a volume if one knows how to read her.|
|#6976||Anyone who says he can see through women is missing a lot.|
-- Groucho Marx
|#6977|| "Anything else, sir?" asked the attentive bellhop, trying his best|
to make the lady and gentleman comfortable in their penthouse suite in the
"No. No, thank you," replied the gentleman.
"Anything for your wife, sir?" the bellhop asked.
"Why, yes, young man," said the gentleman. "Would you bring me a
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