I haunted streets, whorehouses, police stations, courtrooms, theater stages, jails, saloons, slums, madhouses, fires, murders, riots, banquet halls and bookshops.
BEN HECHTI haunted streets, whorehouses, police stations, courtrooms, theater stages, jails, saloons, slums, madhouses, fires, murders, riots, banquet halls and bookshops.
BEN HECHTI’m a Hollywood writer, so I put on my sports jacket and take off my brain.
BEN HECHTOf the things men give each other the greatest is loyalty.
BEN HECHTTrying to determine what is going on in the world by reading newspapers is like trying to tell the time by watching the second hand of a clock.
BEN HECHTTime is a circus, always packing up and moving away.
BEN HECHTI have written a raucous valentine to a poet’s dream and agony.
BEN HECHTChicago is a sort of journalistic Yellowstone Park, offering haven to a last herd of fantastic bravos.
BEN HECHTMovies are one of the bad habits that have corrupted our century. They have slipped into the American mind more misinformation in one evening than the Dark Ages could muster in a decade.
BEN HECHTThe only practical way yet discovered by the world for curing its ills is to forget about them.
BEN HECHTSocially, a journalist ranks somewhere between the madam of a whorehouse and a bartender. but spiritually he ranks with Galileo, for he knows the world is round.
BEN HECHTI know that a man who shows me his wealth is like the beggar who shows me his poverty; they are both looking for alms from me, the rich man for the alms of my envy, the poor man for the alms of my guilt.
BEN HECHTHe was in love with life as an ant on a summer blade of grass.
BEN HECHTThe honors Hollywood has for the writer are as dubious as tissue-paper cuff links.
BEN HECHTI see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like it when life’s hidden. It gives you a chance to imagine nice things, nicer than they are.
BEN HECHTDespite all our toil and progress, the art of medicine still falls somewhere between trout casting and spook writing.
BEN HECHTInnocent people can get into terrible jams, too. One false move and you’re in over your head.
BEN HECHT