A thing that has always baffled me about women is that they will saturate themselves with a pint of perfume, a pound of sachet powder, an evil-smelling lip rouge, a peculiar-smelling hair ointment and a half-dozen varieties of body oils, and then have the effrontery to complain of the aroma of a fine dollar cigar.

I'd have liked to have gone to bed with Jean Harlow. She was a beautiful broad. The fellow who married her was impotent and he killed himself. I would have done the same thing.

A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.

Well, art is art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water.

How do you feel about women's rights? I like either side of them.

Time wounds all heels.

No one is completely unhappy at the failure of his best friend.