They're Ugly, But Those Are The Facts

I Think There's Just One Kind Of Folks. Folks.

She's An Old Lady And She's Ill. You Just Hold Your Head High And Be A Gentleman. Whatever She Says To You, It's Your Job Not To Let Her Make You Mad.

You Know, Many Writers Really Don't Like To Write. I Think This The Chief Complaint Of So Many. They Hate To Write; They Do It Under The Compulsion That Makes Any Artist The Victim He Is, But They Loathe The Process Of Sitting Down Trying To Turn Thoughts Into Reasonable Sentences.

Nothing Is More Deadly Than A Deserted, Waiting Street.

There Are Some Men In This World Who Are Born To Do Our Unpleasant Jobs For Us. Your Father's One Of Them.