“It’s what a fellow thinks he knows that hurts him.”

We’d all like to vote for the best man but he’s never a candidate.

Nobody kicks on being interrupted if it’s by applause.

A friend that ain’t in need is a friend indeed.

I’m sorry to inform you that your 50 year warranty has expired on your back, knees, and memory.

Lots of fellows think a home is only good to borrow money on.

Now and then an innocent man is sent to the legislature.

Folks that blurt out just what they think wouldn’t be so bad if they thought.

No matter how much strong black coffee we drink, almost any after- dinner speech will counteract it.

As to those who hoard gold and silver and spend it not in God’s path, give them, then, the tidings of a painful agony.

Don’t a fellow feel good after he gets out of a store where he nearly bought something.

Nothing’s as mean as giving a little child something useful for Christmas.

Look out for the people who allow you to do all the talking.

Next to a circus there ain’t nothing that packs up and tears out faster than the Christmas spirit.

The longer it takes you to select a cantaloupe, the worse it is!

There’s no secret about success. Did you ever know a successful man who didn’t tell you about it?

Knowin’ all about baseball is just about as profitable as bein’ a good whittler.

I know quite a few fellow members of the news analysis and commentary business, and I have it from the highest-placed sources, on the record, that each and every one of our children is a genius.

There’s no real template to follow these days for what a band should and shouldn’t be – bands are just becoming these weird little Internet avatars that you either follow or download or interact with in some removed way.

Deluded liberal that I am, I persist in thinking that those with a streak of sexual unorthodoxy ought to be more tolerant of their fellows than those who lead an entirely godly, righteous and sober life.

After my varied and celebrated career in television, movies, publishing, and the lucrative world of corporate speaking, being a fellow at Harvard seemed, frankly, like a step down.

Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government asked me to serve as a fellow at its Shorenstein Center on the Press, Politics, and Public Policy.

It labels us, affords us kudos, and raises our profile in the “pecking order” of our fellow troglodytes. It says to others, “See, I’ve done so well that I can afford to do nothing at all whenever I so choose!

They tend to make us meaner rather than better human beings, less sensitive to the demands of justice, compassion and fellow humanity in our times.

I do strive to think well of my fellow man, but no amount of striving can give me confidence in the wisdom of a congressional vote.