Poor, dear God. Playing Idiot's Delight. The game that never means anything, and never ends.

Poor, dear God. Playing Idiot's Delight. The game that never means anything, and never ends.

All Coolidge had to do in 1924 was to keep his mean trap shut, to be elected. All Harding had to do in 1920 was repeat Avoid foreign entanglements. All Hoover had to do in 1928 was to endorse Coolidge. All Roosevelt had to do in 1932 was to point to Hoover.

To be able to write a play a man must be sensitive, imaginative, naive, gullible, passionate; he must be something of an imbecile, something of a poet, something of a liar, something of a damn fool.

The happiest miser on earth is the man who saves up every friend he can make.

And who are the greater criminals-those who sell the instruments of death, or those who buy them and use them?

He must be independent and brave, and sure of himself and of the importance of his work, because if he isn't he will never survive the scorching blasts of derision that will probably greet his first efforts.