“Unless artists can remember what it was to be a little boy, they are only half complete as artist and as man.”

I was seized by the stern hand of Compulsion, that dark, unreasonable Urge that impels women to clean house in the middle of the night.

The dog has seldom been successful in pulling man up to its level of sagacity, but man has frequently dragged the dog down to his.

I always begin at the left with the opening word of the sentence and read toward the right and I recommend this method.

Comedy has to be done en clair. You can’t blunt the edge of wit or the point of satire with obscurity. Try to imagine a famous witty saying that is not immediately clear.

Man is troubled by what might be called the Dog Wish, a strange and involved compulsion to be as happy and carefree as a dog.

Comedy has ceased to be a challenge to the mental processes. It has become a therapy of relaxation, a kind of tranquilizing drug.

The laughter of man is more terrible than his tears, and takes more forms -hollow, heartless, mirthless, maniacal.

Well, if I called the wrong number, why did you answer the phone?

The most dangerous food is wedding cake.

I think that maybe if women and children were in charge we would get somewhere.

A burden in the bush is worth two on your hands.

Somebody has said that woman’s place is in the wrong. That’s fine. What the wrong needs is a woman’s presence and a woman’s touch. She is far better equipped than men to set it right.

Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility.

If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.

Progress was all right. Only it went on too long.

You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backward.