The pounding of the cylinders increased: ta-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa-pocketa.

I write humor the way a surgeon operates, because it is a livelihood, because I have a great urge to do it, because many interesting challenges are set up, and because I have the hope it may do some good.

Until a man can quit talking loudly to himself in order to shout down the memories of blunderings and gropings, he is in no shape for the painstaking examination of distress.

Time is for dragonflies and angels. The former live too little and the latter live too long.

Though statisticians in our time have never kept the score, Man wants a great deal here below and Woman even more.

Let me be the first to admit that the naked truth about me is to the naked truth about Salvador Dali as an old ukulele in the attic is to a piano in a tree, and I mean a piano with breasts. Senor Dali has the jump on me from the beginning. He remembers and describes in detail what it was like in the womb. My own earliest memory is of accompanying my father to a polling booth in Columbus, Ohio, where he voted for William McKinley.

If you wonder which is the stronger sex, watch which one twists the other around her little finger.