There's No Sauce For Play Like Work.

There Are ... Just Two Kinds Of Girls. Those Who Go Down Town Saturday Nights, And Those Who Don't.

Christmas Isn't A Season. It's A Feeling.

I Don't Know What It Is That Makes A Writer Go To His Desk In His Shut-off Room Day After Day After Year After Year Unless It Is The Sure Knowledge That Not To Have Done The Daily Stint Of Writing That Day Is Infinitely More Agonizing Than To Write.

A Placated Bully Is A Hand-fed Bully.

The Very Rich And The Very Social Are, Often, The Very Stuffy.