When it comes to letting the world in on the secrets of his heart, he has about as much shrinking reticence as a steam calliope.

I believe the only way a writer can keep himself up to the mark is by examining each story quite coldly before he starts writing it and asking himself if it is all right as a story. I mean, once you go saying to yourself, 'This is a pretty weak plot as it stands, but I'm such a hell of a writer that my magic touch will make it okay,' you're sunk. If they aren't in interesting situations, characters can't be major characters, not even if you have the rest of the troop talk their heads off about them.

Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum.

That is life. Just one long succession of misunderstandings and rash acts and what not. Absolutely.

New York is a small place when it comes to the part of it that wakes up just as the rest is going to bed.

Cats, as a class, have never completely got over the snootiness caused by the fact that in ancient Egypt they were worshipped as gods. This makes them prone to set themselves up as critics and censors of the frail and erring human beings whose lot they share.

Success comes to a writer as a rule, so gradually that it is always something of a shock to him to look back and realize the heights to which he has climbed.