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

[On hearing that President Coolidge was dead:] How can you tell?

Now to me, Edith looks like something that would eat her young.

Flowers are heaven's masterpiece.

Brevity is the soul of lingerie.

I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it's so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.

People ought to be one of two things, young or dead.