To a newspaperman, a human being is an item with skin wrapped around it.
Everywhere outside New York City is Bridgeport, Connecticut.
Television is a triumph of equipment over people, and the minds that control it are so small that you could put them in a gnat's navel with room left over for two caraway seeds and an agent's heart.
Television is a medium because anything well done is rare.
If criticism had any power to harm, the skunk would be extinct by now.
He's so small, he's a waste of skin.