I'm not a writer with a drinking problem, I'm a drinker with a writing problem.

The cleverest woman on earth is the biggest fool on earth with a man.

London is satisfied, Paris is resigned, but New York is always hopeful.

Maybe it is only I, but conditions are such these days, that if you use studiously correct grammar, people suspect you of homosexual tendencies.

All those writers who write about their own childhood! Gentle God, if I wrote about mine you wouldn't sit in the same room with me.

[On being told their loquacious, domineering host was 'outspoken':] By whom?

Never throw mud: you can miss the target, but your hands will remain dirty.