Nearly all bookish people are snobs, and especially the more enlightened among them. They are apt to assume that if a writer has immense circulation, if he is enjoyed by plain persons, and if he can fill several theatres at once, he cannont possibly be worth reading and merits only indifference and disdain.

Worry is evidence of an ill-controlled brain; it is merely a stupid waste of time in unpleasantness.

Most people sleep themselves stupid.

Time is the explicable raw material of everything.

The real Tragedy is the tragedy of the man who never in his life braces himself for his one supreme effort-he never stretches to his full capacity, never stands up to his full stature.

Concentrate on something useful. Having decided to achieve a task, achieve it at all costs.

Journalists say a thing that they know isn't true, in the hope that if they keep on saying it long enough it will be true.