I don't know much about being a millionaire, but I'll bet I'd be darling at it.
Love is like quicksilver in the hand. Leave the fingers open and it stays. Clutch it and it darts away.
[Hospitalized and pressing the nurse's button before dictating letters to her secretary:] This should assure us of at least forty-five minutes of undisturbed privacy.
Now to me, Edith looks like something that would eat her young.
Four things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.
I had been fed, in my youth, a lot of old wives' tales about the way men would instantly forsake a beautiful woman to flock around a brilliant one. It is but fair to say that, after getting out in the world, I had never seen this happen." [From a column dated November 17, 1928]