Scratch a king and find a fool!

There's life for you. Spend the best years of your life studying penmanship and rhetoric and syntax and Beowulf and George Eliot, and then somebody steals your pencil.

If wild my breast and sore my pride, I bask in dreams of suicide, If cool my heart and high my head I think 'How lucky are the dead.

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

There is entirely too much charm around, and something must be done to stop it.

Prince or commoner, tenor or bass, Painter or plumber or never-do-well, Do me a favor and shut your face - Poets alone should kiss and tell.

Guns aren't lawful; nooses give; gas smells awful. So you might as well live.