A city with one newspaper... is like a man with one eye, and often the eye is glass.

I take a grave view of the press. It is the weak slat under the bed of democracy

I had an attack of the gout two days before pulling out, and I went limping off to the war instead of coming limping back from it.

Freedom of the press belongs to the man who owns one.

The fighter (like the writer) must stand alone. If he loses he cannot call an executive conference and throw off on a vice president or the assistant sales manager. He is consequently resented by fractional characters who cannot live outside an organization.

If there is any way you can get colder than you do when you sleep in a bedding roll on the ground in a tent in southern Tunisia two hours before dawn, I don't know about it.

There is no concept more generally cherished by publishers than that of the Undeserving Poor.