The writer can only explore the inner space of his characters by perceptively navigating his own.

The rich aren't like us, they pay less taxes.

I think people love each other a little more than they hate each other ... Love has a slim hold on the human corporation, like fifty-one per cent, but it's enough.

The satirist shoots to kill while the humorist brings his prey back alive and eventually releases him again for another chance.

Confession is good for the soul only in the sense that a tweed coat is good for dandruff - it is a palliative rather than a remedy.

The universe is like a safe to which there is a combination. But the combination is locked up in the safe.

The idea of a Supreme Being who creates a world in which one creature is designed to eat another in order to subsist, and then pass a law saying, "Thou shalt not kill," is so monstrously, immeasurably, bottomlessly absurd that I am at a loss to understand how mankind has entertained or given it house room all this long.