I do not say I was ever what I would call "plain," but I have the sort of face that bores me when I see it on other people.

[To Jean Harlow, who repeatedly mispronounced her first name:] No, no, Jean. The t is silent, as in Harlow.

If Kitchener was not a great man, he was, at least, a great poster.

All I can say about my mind is that, like a fire carefully laid by a good housemaid, it is one that any match will light.

Truthfulness with me is hardly a virtue. I cannot discriminate between truths that and those that don't need to be told.

His modesty amounts to deformity.

Although I am not stupid, the mathematical side of my brain is like dumb notes upon a damaged piano.