I was a student in the Department of Anthropology. At that time, they were teaching that there was absolutely no difference between anybody. They may be teaching that still.

I'm eighty-three and I've been smoking since I was eleven. I'm suing the cigarette company because it promised to kill me and it hasn't.

There is no good reason good can't triumph over evil, if only angels will get organized along the lines of the mafia.

What do men want? They want a lot of pals, and they wish that people wouldn't get so mad at them.

The umpire had comical news. The congregation had been theoretically spotted from the air by a theoretical enemy. They were all theoretically dead now. The theoretical corpses laughed and ate a hearty noontime meal.

What made marriage so difficult back then was yet again that instigator of so many other sorts of heartbreak: the oversize brain.

I couldn't survive my own pessimism if I didn't have some kind of sunny little dream.