The great artists of the world are never Puritans, and seldom even ordinarily respectable.

Wife: one who is sorry she did it, but would undoubtedly do it again.

In any combat between a rogue and a fool the sympathy of mankind is always with the rogue.

The true function of art is to criticize, embellish and edit nature… the artist is a sort of impassioned proof-reader, blue penciling the bad spelling of God.

Five years of Prohibition have had, at least, this one benign effect: they have completely disposed of all the favorite arguments of the Prohibitionists. None of the great boons and usufructs that were to follow the passage of the Eighteenth Amendment has come to pass. There is not less drunkenness in the Republic, but more. There is not less crime, but more. There is not less insanity, but more. The cost of government is not smaller, but vastly greater. Respect for law has not increased, but diminished.

Anyhow, the hole in the donut is at least digestible.

The state remains, as it was in the beginning, the common enemy of all well-disposed, industrious and decent men.