By jove, no wonder women don't love war nor understand it, nor can operate in it as a rule; it takes a man to suffer what other men have invented . . .

Women have invented nothing in all that, except the men who were born as male babies and grew up to be men big enough to be killed fighting.

She felt about a love set as a painter does about his masterpiece; each ace serve was a form of brushwork to her, and her fantastically accurate shot-placing was certainly a study in composition.

She was built for crowds. She has never come any closer to life than the dinner table.

By jove, no wonder women don't love war nor understand it, nor can operate in it as a rule; it takes a man to suffer what other men have invented . . .

The older women were Sunbeams and I guess we were Cherubs or Lambs, but our mothers were Nightingales.