If you spend your life sparing people’s feelings and feeding their vanity, you get so you can’t distinguish what should be respected in them.

It's not a slam at you when people are rude, it's a slam at the people they've met before.

I just couldn't make the grade as a hack-that, like everything else, requires a certain practiced excellence.

I'm a romantic; a sentimental person thinks things will last, a romantic person hopes against hope that they won't.

I'm not much like myself any more.

My latest tendency is to collapse about 11:00 and with the tears flowing from my eyes or the gin rising to their level and leaking over, and tell interested friends or acquaintances that I haven't a friend in the world and likewise care for nobody.

When I see a beautiful shell like that I can't help feeling a regret about what's inside it.