“Lovers of the town have been content, for the most part, to say they loved it. They do not brag about its uplifting qualities. They have none of the infernal smugness which makes the lover of the country insupportable.”

The cat dwells within the circle of her own secret thoughts.

Democracy forever teases us with the contrast between its ideals and its realities, between its heroic possibilities and its sorry achievements.

The soul begins to travel when the child begins to think.

The great dividing line between books that are made to be read and books that are made to be bought is not the purely modern thing it seems. We can trace it, if we try, back to the first printing-presses.

The tourist may complain of other tourists, but he would be lost without them.

The audience is the controlling factor in the actor’s life. It is practically infallible, since there is no appeal from its verdict. It is a little like a supreme court composed of irresponsible minors.

It was hard to speed the male child up the stony heights of erudition, but it was harder still to check the female child at the crucial point, and keep her tottering decorously behind her brother.

Cats, even when robust, have scant liking for the boisterous society of children, and are apt to exert their utmost ingenuity to escape it. Nor are they without adult sympathy in their prejudice.

Humor brings insight and tolerance. Irony brings a deeper and less friendly understanding.

It is not what we learn in conversation that enriches us. It is the elation that comes of swift contact with tingling currents of thought.

No rural community, no suburban community, can ever possess the distinctive qualities that city dwellers have for centuries given to the world.

The English possess too many agreeable traits to permit them to be as much disliked as they think and hope they are.

There was no escape from the letter-writer who, a hundred or a hundred and twenty-five years ago, captured a coveted correspondent. It would have been as easy to shake off an octopus or a boa-constrictor.

Like simplicity and candor, and other much-commented qualities, enthusiasm is charming until we meet it face to face, and cannot escape from its charm.

The thinkers of the world should by rights be guardians of the world’s mirth.

The most charming thing about youth is the tenacity of its impressions.

I’m not a guy that’s going to brag or feel like I’m better than the group.

I don’t think you get successful to brag and throw what you have in the world’s face. That’s all private.

Not bragging by any means, but I could have done a lot of other stuff as far as working in films go and working in television…

I know who I am. I don’t have to brag. I know what I contributed. I know what I did.

It’s something I take pride in, but it’s nothing that I want to brag about. It’s part of my game.