Your letter of excuses has arrived. I receive the letter but do not admit the excuses except in courtesy, as when a man treads on your toes and begs your pardon -- the pardon is granted, but the joint aches, especially if there is a corn upon it.

Bad excuses are worse than none.

To offer the complexities of life as an excuse for not addressing oneself to the simpler, more manageable (trivial) aspects of daily existence is a perversity often indulged in by artists, husbands, intellectuals -- and critics of the Women's Movement.

We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse.

He who excuses himself, accuses himself.

And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.