Being a woman is of special interest only to aspiring male transsexuals. To actual women, it is simply a good excuse not to play football.
Missing springtime is like missing a woman. You never really noticed her and then she was gone, and all that she was returns and makes the separation even more painful.
I think I read this somewhere. “Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.”
No man should ever publish a book until he has first read it to a woman.
Strike an average between what a woman thinks of her husband a month before she marries him and what she thinks of him a year afterward, and you will have the truth about him.