I don't know where we're going or how we'll get there, but when we get there we'll be there - and that's something, even if it's nothing.

The worst disgrace that can befall a producer is an unkind notice from a New York reviewer. When this happens, the producer becomes a pariah in Hollywood. He is shunned by his friends, thrown into bankruptcy, and like a Japanese electing hara-kiri, he commits suttee.

Where would the Rockefellers be today if old John D. had gone on selling short-weight kerosene ... to widows and orphans instead of wisely deciding to mulct the whole country.

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.

"In France," Marcel said with wintry dignity, "accidents occur in the bedroom, not the kitchen."

Fate was dealing from the bottom of the deck.

There is such a thing as too much couth.