If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.

Damn the subjunctive. It brings all our writers to shame.

It is my heart-warmed and world-embracing Christmas hope and aspiration that all of us, the high, the low, the rich, the poor, the admired, the despised, the loved, the hated, the civilized, the savage (every man and brother of us all throughout the whole earth), may eventually be gathered together in a heaven of everlasting rest and peace and bliss, except the inventor of the telephone.

Begin with the determination to succeed and the work is half done already.

Probably there is an imperceptible touch of something permanent that one feels instinctively to adhere to true humour, whereas wit may be the mere conversational shooting up of "smartness"--a bright feather, to be blown into space the second after it is launched...Wit seems to be counted a very poor relation to Humour....Humour is never artificial.

A banquet is probably the most fatiguing thing in the world except ditch digging.

You meet people who forget you. You forget people you meet. But sometimes you meet those people you can't forget. Those are your 'friends