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.

[On being told party guests were ducking for apples:] There, but for a typographical error, is the story of my life.

If I had a shiny gun I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brains Of the folks that cause me pains :)

Like many a better one before me, I have gone down under the force of numbers, under the books and books and books that keep coming out and coming out and coming out, shoals of them, spates of them, flash floods of them, too blame many books, and no sign of an end.

Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses.

There's a hell of a distance between wisecracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words.

She was pleased to have him come and never sorry to see him go.