There is one day that is ours. Thanksgiving Day is the one day that is purely American.

Greenwich Village... the village of low rents and high arts.

Each of us, when our day's work is done, must seek our ideal, whether it be love or pinochle or lobster à la Newburg, or the sweet silence of the musty bookshelves.

If man knew how women pass the time when they are alone, they'd never marry.

She plucked from my lapel the invisible strand of lint (the universal act of woman to proclaim ownership).

What is the world at its best but a little round field of the moving pictures with two walking together in it?

If you live in an atmosphere of luxury, luxury is yours whether your money pays for it, or another's.