“A girl’s best friend is her mutter.”

I hate writing, I love having written.

Los Angeles: Seventy-two suburbs in search of a city.

Ducking for apples — change one letter and it’s the story of my life.

But I don’t give up; I forget why not.

[On being shown an apartment by a real estate agent:] Oh, dear, that’s much too big. All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.

If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?

Heterosexuality is not normal, it’s just common.

Creativity is a wild mind and a disciplined eye.

A liberal is a man who leaves the room before the fight starts.

Of course I talk to myself. I like a good speaker, and I appreciate an intelligent audience.

He is a writer for the ages, the ages of four to eight.

Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses.

They sicken of the calm who know the storm.

His voice was as intimate as the rustle of sheets.

Telegram to a friend who had just become a mother after a prolonged pregnancy: Good work, Mary. We all knew you had it in you.

You can’t teach an old dogma new tricks.