You don’t want a general houseworker, do you? Or a traveling companion, quiet, refined, speaks fluent French entirely in the present tense? Or an assistant billiard-maker? Or a private librarian? Or a lady car-washer? Because if you do, I should appreciate your giving me a trial at the job. Any minute now, I am going to become one of the Great Unemployed. I am about to leave literature flat on its face. I don’t want to review books any more. It cuts in too much on my reading.

All I have to be thankful for in this world is that I was sitting down when my garter busted.

Ducking for apples -- change one letter and it's the story of my life.

On being told of the death of former President Calvin Coolidge: How could they tell?

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.

Those who have mastered etiquette, who are entirely, impeccably right, would seem to arrive at a point of exquisite dullness.

One more drink and I'd have been under the host.