There is something about a home aquarium which sets my teeth on edge the moment I see it. Why anyone would want to live with a small container of stagnant water populated by a half-dead guppy is beyond me.

The dubious privilege of a freelance writer is he’s given the freedom to starve anywhere.

If, at the close of business each evening, I myself can understand what I've written, I feel the day hasn't been totally wasted.

In my more pompous moments I like to think of myself as a writer rather than a humorist, but I suppose that's merely the vanity of advancing age.

This medal (the National Book Award) together with my American Express card, will identify me worldwide ... except at Bloomingdale's.

There are nineteen words in Yiddish that convey gradations of disparagement, from a mild, fluttery helplessness to a state of downright, irreconcilable brutishness. All of them can be usefully employed to pinpoint the kind of individuals I write about.

I'll dispose of my teeth as I see fit, and after they've gone, I'll get along. I started off living on gruel, and by God, I can always go back to it again.