The essence of a sound style is that it cannot be reduced to rules-that it is a living and breathing thing with something of the devilish in it-that it fits its proprietor tightly yet ever so loosely, as his skin fits him. It is, in fact, quite as seriously an integral part of him as that skin is. . . . In brief, a style is always the outward and visible symbol of a man, and cannot be anything else.

The longest sentence you can form with two words is: I do.

No sane man objects to palpable lies about him; what he objects to is damaging facts.

The men the American people admire most extravagantly are the most daring liars; the men they detest most violently are those who try to tell them the truth.

I detest converts almost as much as I do missionaries.

A tin horn politician with the manner of a rural corn doctor and the mien of a ham actor

It is difficult to believe that even idiots ever succumbed to such transparent contradictions, to such gaudy processions of mere counter-words, to so vast and obvious a nonsensicalitysentence after sentence that has no apparent meaning at all--stuff quite as bad as the worst bosh of Warren Gamaliel Harding.