WHAT EVERY WOMAN WONDERS
THERE are gardens full of flowers that I feared to pluck.
There are eyes full of promises that I dared not believe.
There are lips full of sweetness, from which I turned away.
I wonder if Paradise holds anything for me, one-half so beautiful
As the joys I have renounced for its sake!
A man's life is like a musical comedy; there is always one woman in it who is the star—but it takes ninety-nine others to make up the "ensemble."
Nothing so annoys a man as to have a woman "cheer him up," when he is enjoying the exquisite luxury of feeling sorry for himself.
The modern girl's "perfect candor" has taken the sin out of sincerity—and most of the sweet scent out of the flower of sentiment. Without the Serpent, the Garden of Eden would seem a dull old place to most men.
Love is neither a bonfire, nor a kitchen-fire; but an altar-fire, to be kept burning forever with prayer and reverence.
In the language of love, "Forever!" means for quite a little while and "Never!" means not until next season.
"A fool there was, and he made his prayer"—to two women on the same party wire.
Love is a matter of give and take—marriage, a matter of misgive and mistake.
Even a fool knows enough to laugh at a man's joke—but only a born Siren knows enough to hang onto his coat-lapel and beg him to "Tell it again!"
Some men are born for matrimony, some achieve matrimony—but most of them are merely poor dodgers.
There are many times when a woman would gladly drop her husband, if she did not feel morally certain that some other woman would come right along and pick him up.
Alas! In choosing a husband, it seems that you've always got to decide between something tame and uninteresting, like a gold-fish, and something wild and fascinating, like a mountain goat.
Perhaps the first time a young man actually realizes that he is married is when he catches himself looking at other women with that strange, new, wistful sort of interest.
It is at once the mission and the punishment of the flirt to go through life tapping the hearts of men, that they may overflow—for other women.
The sweetest things in a woman's life are her "yesterdays"—the sweetest things in a man's life are his "tomorrows."
The man who is fondly looking for a perfect angel almost invariably ends by marrying some little devil who knows how to persuade him that her horns are merely the signs of a budding halo.
Woman is to most men what "heart-failure" is to the doctors—something that it is always convenient to blame any old thing on.
"The mind has a thousand eyes—the heart but one!"—and that usually goes fast asleep, after marriage.
Philosophy is the only kind of "sweetening" with which to make life palatable.
Estimated from a wife's experience, the average man spends fully one-quarter of his life in looking for his shoes.
An "idealist" is a man who is content to worship a woman from afar—and let some gross, unselfish materialist marry her and support her.
Changing husbands is about as satisfactory as changing a bundle from one hand to the other; it gives you only temporary relief.
France may claim the happiest marriages in the world, but the happiest divorces in the world are "made in America."
No doubt, even Solomon told each of his 700 wives that he had merely thought he loved the others, but that she was the only girl he "ever really cared for" in just that way.
Love is what makes a man appear blissfully happy, when a woman is mussing up the precious wisp of hair across his bald spot.
Love is what makes a woman laugh delightedly when a man is telling her for the second time, a story which she knew by heart before he told it to her the first time.
All this "sex-antagonism" must have started when Adam brought in the first rabbit and ordered Eve to make it into Chicken-a-la-King.
When a man takes a notion to marry, he doesn't start following it up—he merely stops running away.
A woman is young until the light dies out of her last lover's eyes.
Whenever a pretty girl runs her fingers through his hair, a cautious bachelor can't help thinking of what happened to Samson.
Success in flirtation, as in gambling, consists in "getting out of the game" at the psychological moment before your luck begins to turn.
Being a husband's "economic equal" may be awfully noble and advanced; but it usually means being all of his ribs and most of his vertebrae.
Men have been classified as "what women marry." They have two feet, two hands and sometimes two wives—but never more than one collar-button or one idea at a time.
When a man says, "Nobody understands me," don't fancy he is suffering. He is merely trying to let you know, in a modest way, that he is a profound, fascinating mystery.
A man snatches the first kiss, pleads for the second, demands the third, takes the fourth, accepts the fifth—and endures all the rest of them.
After two years, an engagement doesn't need to be broken; it just naturally sags in the middle and comes apart.
Eve had as much choice in the matter of a husband as any other woman. She merely accepted what fate sent her, and pretended to have gotten her "ideal."
It is not much comfort to be able to keep your husband's material body in the house evenings, when his astral body keeps wandering off to the club, every few minutes.
In love, sweet are the uses of diversity!
A woman's love "bursts into flower," but judging from the time it takes him to discover it, a man's love must be developed by the wearisome process of geological formation.
If a man and a diamond are big and brilliant enough, one doesn't mind a few flaws in them; but, for some reason, Heaven knows why, a woman and a pearl are expected to be absolutely perfect.
When Fate places a laurel wreath on the brow of a genius she hitches a plough to his shoulders and holds a Tantalus cup to his lips.
It isn't the man who paints his virtues in three colors and begs her to marry him, but the one who paints his sins in vermilion and begs her to "save" him who usually wins the girl.
If you want a man to propose don't try to make your family coddle him. Make them hate him, because a man never really "takes hold" until somebody begins to pull the other way.
The man who falls in love at first sight never knows what has struck him, and therefore mercifully escapes all the agonizing slow-torture of feeling himself sink, inch by inch, into the quicksands of matrimony.
Never believe that justice is all you owe your husband; what every man needs, from the woman who loves him, is faith, hope and charity—and above all, mercy.
Even a coquette can be loyal to one man—until she prefers another; but a man's heart is like a ferry-boat—always going backward and forward, and never staying "docked."
Soft, sweet things with a lot of fancy dressing—that is what a little boy loves to eat and a grown man prefers to marry.
