The rule in the art world is: you cater to the masses or you kowtow to the elite; you can’t have both.
BEN HECHTImmorality, perversion, infidelity, cannibalism, etc., are unassailable by church and civic league if you dress them up in the togas and talliths of the Good Book.
More Ben Hecht Quotes
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Love is a hole in the heart.
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When you overpay small people you frighten them. They know that their merits or activities entitle them to no such sums as they are receiving. As a result their boss soars out of economic into magic significance.
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Criticism can never instruct or benefit you. Its chief effect is that of a telegram with dubious news. Praise leaves no glow behind, for it is a writer’s habit to remember nothing good of himself.
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There is nothing as dull as an intellectual ally after a certain age.
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Immorality, perversion, infidelity, cannibalism, etc., are unassailable by church and civic league if you dress them up in the togas and talliths of the Good Book.
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They’re a symbol of the whole town, pretending to fight, love, weep and laugh all the time – and they’re phonies, all of them. And I head the list…their phony hearts were dripping with the milk of human kindness.
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I have written a raucous valentine to a poet’s dream and agony.
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As an eruption of trash that has lamed the American mind and retarded Americans from becoming a cultured people.
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I’ll tell you a secret. We live in a mad and inspiring world.
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Out of the seventy movies I’ve written some ten of them were not entirely waste product.
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The only practical way yet discovered by the world for curing its ills is to forget about them.
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The movies are one of the bad habits that corrupted our century.Of their many sins, I offer as the worst their effect on the intellectual side of the nation. It is chiefly from that viewpoint I write of them.
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Television excites me because it seems to be the last stamping ground of poetry, the last place where I hear women’s hair rhapsodically described, women’s faces acclaimed in odelike language.
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Time is a circus, always packing up and moving away.
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I ran everywhere in the city like a fly buzzing in the works of a clock, tasted more than any fit belly could hold, learned not to sleep, and buried myself in a tick-tock of whirling hours that still echo in me.
BEN HECHT