Nobody Ever Died Of Laughter.

I Have Known No Man Of Genius Who Had Not To Pay, In Some Affliction Or Defect, Either Physical Or Spiritual, For What The Gods Had Given Him.

Not That I Had Any Special Reason For Hating School. Strange As It May Seem To My Readers, I Was Not Unpopular There. I Was A Modest, Good-humoured Boy. It Is Oxford That Has Made Me Insufferable.

We Must Stop Talking About The American Dream And Start Listening To The Dreams Of Americans.

Of All The Objects Of Hatred, A Woman Once Loved Is The Most Hateful.

Has The Gift Of Laughter Been Withdrawn From Me? I Protest That I Do Still, At The Age Of Forty-seven, Laugh Often And Loud And Long. But Not, I Believe, So Long And Loud And Often As In My Less Smiling Youth. And I Am Proud, Nowadays, Of Laughing, And Grateful To Any One Who Makes Me Laugh. That Is A Bad Sign. I No Longer Take Laughter As A Matter Of Course.