What [man landing on the moon] is doing up there is indulging his obsession with the impossible. The impossible infuriates and tantalizes him. Show him an impossible job and he will reduce it to a possibility so trite that eventually it bores him.

So there he is at last. Man on the moon. The poor magnificent bungler! He can't even get to the office without undergoing the agonies of the damned, but give him a little metal, a few chemicals, some wire and twenty or thirty billion dollars and vroom! there he is, up on a rock a quarter of a million miles up in the sky.

A $10 million windfall? At today's prices, I'd feel almost as rich as I did one day in 1936 when I found a dime on the sidewalk and blew the whole wad on 20 Mary Jane candy bars, a box of jujubes, and a double feature.

Happiness is a small and unworthy goal for something as big and fancy as a whole lifetime, and should be taken in small doses.

It is safest to shut up and pay, which is what I shall eventually do, though I shall hate having to sell the children.

Etiquette is the grease that makes it possible for all of us to rub together without unnecessary overheating.

You can't enjoy light verse with a heavy heart.