The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be only the beginning.

What is art? It is not decoration. It is the re-living of experience.

My memory is certainly in my hands. I can remember things only if I have a pencil and I can write with it and I can play with it. ... I think your hand concentrates for you. I don't know why it should be so.

There is, of course, no reason for the existence of the male sex except that one sometimes needs help with moving the piano.

Economists are like Aeolian harps, and the sounds that issue from them are determined by the winds that blow.

Did St. Francis preach to the birds? Whatever for? If he really liked birds he would have done better to preach to the cats.

Unfortunately, all gatherings convened for the betterment of the human lot show a tendency to gas themselves, and not with laughing-gas either.