Humor is like a frog. You can dissect it to see how it works, but by then, it's dead.

To perceive Christmas through its wrappings becomes more difficult with every year.

It can destroy an individual, or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck. No one should come to New York to live unless he is willing to be lucky.

I would really rather feel bad in Maine than feel good anywhere else

Humour plays close to the big, hot fire, which is the truth, and the reader feels the heat.

A man must have something to cling to. Without that he is as a pea vine sprawling in search of a trellis.... I was all asprawl, clinging to Beauty, which is a very restless trellis.

No one can write decently who is distrustful of the reader's intelligence or whose attitude is patronizing.