They take the paper and they read the headlines. So they've heard of unemployment and they've heard of bread-lines. And they philanthropically cure them all by getting up a costume charity ball.

I think remorse ought to stop biting the consciences that feed it.

I'm like a backward berry, Unripened on the vine, For all my friends are fifty, And I'm only forty-nine.

Bankers are just like everybody else, except richer.

I don't mind their having a lot of money, and I don't care how they employ it, but I do think that they damn well ought to admit they enjoy it.

Some hate broccoli, some hate bacon I hate having my picture taken. How can your family claim to love you And then demand a picture of you?

I drink because she nags, she said I nag because he drinks. But if the truth be known to you, He's a lush and she's a shrew.