To his dog, every man is Napoleon; hence the constant popularity of dogs.
Aldous HuxleyRead
No man ever dared to manifest his boredom so insolently as does a Siamese tomcat when he yawns in the face of his amorously importunate wife.
Interpretation
This quote humorously highlights the contrast between a man's indifference and a woman's romantic pursuits.
Aldous Huxley uses the image of a Siamese tomcat yawning in front of his eager wife to illustrate how boredom can be expressed in a much more conspicuous and cheeky way. It signifies the disparity in attitudes towards affection, suggesting that while one partner may be enthusiastic, the other may feel indifferent, leading to humorous tensions in relationships.
In practice
This quote can be used to lighten the mood during a relationship counseling session.
To his dog, every man is Napoleon; hence the constant popularity of dogs.
Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
In the course of history many more people have died for their drink and their dope than have died for their religion or their country.
On no account brood over your wrongdoing. Rolling in the muck is not the best way of getting clean.
The leech's kiss, the squid's embrace, The prurient ape's defiling touch: And do you like the human race? No, not much.
Children are remarkable for their intelligence and ardor, for their curiosity, their intolerance of shams, the clarity and ruthlessness of their vision.
Listen, three eyes," he said, "don't you try to outweird me, I get stranger things than you free with my breakfast cereal.
Canada is a country whose main exports are hockey players and cold fronts. Our main imports are baseball players and acid rain.
It's a lovely moment when everyone's part of something greater than the sum of its parts. That encapsulates what a comedy gig should be, with the comic as the lightning rod, the Norse mischief god, getting the audience to do something they wouldn't necessarily do.
The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafing thighs all the way to the North Pole.
Isnβt it fascinating to think that probably the only laugh that man will ever get in his life is by stripping off and showing his shortcomings?
Humor can be dissected as a frog can, but the thing dies in the process and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind.
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