The true index of a mans character is the health of his wife. – Cyril Connolly
Green leaves on a dead tree is our epitaph — green leaves, dear reader, on a dead tree. – Cyril Connolly

The true index of a mans character is the health of his wife. – Cyril Connolly
Green leaves on a dead tree is our epitaph — green leaves, dear reader, on a dead tree. – Cyril Connolly
Words today are like the shells and rope of seaweed which a child brings home glistening from the beach and which in an hour have lost their luster. – Cyril Connolly
Imprisoned in every fat man, a thin one is wildly signaling to be let out. – Cyril Connolly