A man without moustache is like a woman with moustache.
If your boyfriend doesn’t have a beard, you have a girlfriend.
Why do I grow a Beard? Because I am neither a woman nor a child.
Shaving says a lot about a Man. Like, “I’m not one.”
So you don’t like my beard? That’s ok, I didn’t grow it for you.
My hair grows and grows; you cannot stop it – that fellow grows, it grows wild.
Style, like sheer silk underwear, sometimes hides eczema.
Alas, after a certain age every man is responsible for his face.
It is not your paintings I like, it is your painting.
There was a young man who said though, it seems that I know that I know, but what I would like to see is the I that knows me when I know that I know that I know.
Just as true humor is laughter at oneself, true humanity is knowledge of oneself.
After all is said and done, more is said than done.
I began furiously making lists, and more lists, until I was making lists of lists . . .
When you’re thinking that I’m thinking of you, I’m thinking you’re thinking of me.
My thoughts are free to go anywhere, but it’s surprising how often they head in your direction.
And my thoughts drift to you.
In case you ever foolishly forget, I am never not thinking of you.
Lazy people are always busy.
Lazy is such an ugly word. I prefer the term selective participation.
My bed is my boyfriend.