Why, after all, should readers never be harrowed? Surely there is enough happiness in life without having to go to books for it.

Why is it no one sent me yet one perfect limousine, do you suppose? Ah no, it's always just my luck to get one perfect rose.

Los Angeles: Seventy-two suburbs in search of a city.

The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core. Scratch a lover and find a foe!

Upton Sinclair is his own King Charles' head. He cannot keep himself out of his writings, try though he may; or, by this time, try though he doesn't.

Out in Hollywood, where the streets are paved with Goldwyn.

It is that word 'hunny,' my darlings, that marks the first place in The House at Pooh Corner at which Tonstant Weader fwowed up.