Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric of their friendship.

Once I was coming down a street in Beverly Hills and I saw a Cadillac about a block long, and out of the side window was a wonderfully slinky mink, and an arm, and at the end of the arm a hand in a white suede glove wrinkled around the wrist, and in the hand was a bagel with a bite out of it.

I might repeat to myself . . . a list of quotations from minds profound - if I can remember any of the damn things.

He is a writer for the ages, the ages of four to eight.

[On Edna Ferber's Ice Palace] ... the book, which is going to be a movie, has the plot and characters of a book which is going to be a movie.

The sun's gone dim, and the moon's gone black. For I loved him, and he didn't love back.

I've finally gotten to the bottom of things.