If I didn’t care for fun and such, I’d probably amount to much, but I shall stay the way I am, because I do not give a damn.
All I need is room enough to lay a hat and a few friends.
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, a medley of extemporanea, And love is a thing that can never go wrong, and I am Marie of Romania.
I know this will come as a shock to you, Mr. Goldwyn, but in all history, which has held billions and billions of human beings, not a single one ever had a happy ending.
Those who have mastered etiquette, who are entirely, impeccably right, would seem to arrive at a point of exquisite dullness.
Genius can write on the back of old envelopes but mere talent requires the finest stationery available.
The only dependable law of life – everything is always worse than you thought it was going to be.
I require only three things of a man. He must be handsome, ruthless and stupid.
Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses.
She can sit up and beg, and she can give her paw – I don’t say she will, but she can.
If love is blind, why is lingerie so popular?
Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric of their friendship.
Writing is the art of applying the ass to the seat.
This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.
I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it’s so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.
Where unwilling dies the rose; buds the new another year.
Where’s the man that could ease a heart like a satin gown?
There’s a hell of a distance between wisecracking and wit. Wit has truth in it; wisecracking is simply calisthenics with words.
Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you!
Women and elephants never forget.