You can't appreciate home until you've left it, money till it's spent, your wife till she's joined a woman's club, nor Old Glory till you see it hanging on a broomstick on the shanty of a consul in a foreign town.
We may achieve climate, but weather is thrust upon us.
There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.
By rights you're a king. If I was you, I'd call for a new deal.
The Venturer is one who keeps his eye on the hedgerows and wayside groves and meadows while he travels the road to Fortune.
She plucked from my lapel the invisible strand of lint (the universal act of woman to proclaim ownership).