“Fame – anyone who says he doesn’t like it is crazy”

Do I believe in ghosts? Of course I do. So do you. Deep in the souls of the most sophisticated of us is lurking a fear of the supernatural which all the discoveries of scientists cannot eradicate.

For me, a hearty “belly laugh” is one of the beautiful sounds in the world.

I think the right to read, is one of our inherent rights, and I think that people in America today are intelligent enough to decide for themselves what they want to read. Without being told, by self-appointed people, you must not read this, or you cannot read this.

The person who can bring the spirit of laughter into a room is indeed blessed.

Politicians are like ships: noisiest when lost in a fog.

Good manners: The noise you don’t make when you’re eating soup.

Oratory is the art of making a loud noise sound like a deep thought.

One of the greatest threats facing book publishing, and the entire country for that matter, is censorship.

The Atomic Age is here to stay – but are we?

The fundamental difference between the mystery story and the ghost story is the fact that a mystery demands a solution for its effectiveness; a ghost story is necessarily unsolvable; the reader must be willing to accept the fact that nothing is proved.

There once was a student named Bessor Whose knowledge grew lessor and lessor. It at last grew so small He knew nothing at all, And today he’s a college professor!

Banquet: a plate of cold, hairy chicken and artificially coloured green peas completely surrounded by dreary speeches and appeals for donations.

One of the troubles of the day, observes Mr. C.N. Peac, is that once we came upon the little red schoolhouse, whereas now we come upon the little-read school boy.

The Detroit String Quartet played Brahms last night. Brahms lost.

The fact that we don’t read more books in America can be traced squarely to the fact that we have newspapers that are about a hundred times as big as the newspapers anywhere else.

In a notable family called Stein There were Gertrude, and Ep, and then Ein. Gert’s writing was hazy, Ep’s statues were crazy, And nobody understood Ein.