I love the idea of there being two sexes, don't you?

I never quite know when I'm not writing. Sometimes my wife comes up to me at a party and says, "Dammit, Thurber, stop writing." She usually catches me in the middle of a paragraph.

Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain desires; I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street.

I have the reputation for having read all of Henry James. Which would argue a misspent youth and middle age.

The laughter of man is more terrible than his tears, and takes more forms -hollow, heartless, mirthless, maniacal.

I drew pictures rapidly and with few lines, because I had to write most of the pieces, too, and couldn't monkey long with the drawings. The divine urge was no higher than that.

A husband should not insult his wife publicly, at parties. He should insult her in the privacy of the home.