From the moment I picked your book up until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it.

Time wounds all heels.

Oh, why can't we break away from all this, just you and I, and lodge with my fleas in the hills? I mean flee to my lodge in the hills.

I wish to be cremated. One tenth of my ashes shall be given to my agent, as written in our contract.

Years ago, I tried to top everybody, but I don't anymore. I realized it was killing conversation. When you're always trying for a topper you aren't really listening. It ruins communication

The admission fee was a viper's tongue and a half-concealed stiletto. It was a sort of intellectual slaughterhouse.

That's bad luck: three on a midget. From "At The Circus