You never find an Englishman among the under-dogs except in England, of course.

Soon someone would say the fatal words, "Well, I think it’s time for me to go to bed.

For in that city [New York] there is neurosis in the air which the inhabitants mistake for energy.

News is what a chap who doesn't care much about anything wants to read.

There is practically no sense that is not violated every time we return from the country or the sea to Paris or London or New York.

It is easy, retrospectively, to endow one's youth with a false precocity or a false innocence; to tamper with the dates marking one's stature on the edge of the door.

Conversation should be like juggling; up go the balls and plates, up and over, in and out, good solid objects that glitter in the footlights and fall with a bang if you miss them.