This play John Drinkwater's Abraham Lincoln holds the season's record, thus far, with a run of four evening performances and one matinee. By an odd coincidence, it ran just five performances too many.

All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.

Now that you've got me right down to it, the only thing I didn't like about The Barrets of Wimplole Street was the play.

Said after she had been seriously ill: The doctors were very brave about it.

I wanted to be cute. That's the terrible thing. I should have had more sense.

Writing well is the best revenge.

Innocence is a desirable thing, a dainty thing, an appealing thing, in its place; but carried too far, it is merely ridiculous.