I’ve always had a sneaking fondness for Martin Van Buren. He wrote his autobiography, you know, and never once mentioned his wife. Now that’s what I call a mans man.
The National Park Service shot a mule in the face. He survived but had trouble swallowing and often food came out of his nose.
People ask me what makes a good funeral, and I tell them the most important thing is your man in the casket. If you have a man of substance in there, you have the makings of a first-class funeral.
On resigning as collaborator on the memoirs of the former Wallis Warfield Simpson, new summaries, 6 October 1955. You can’t make the Duchess of Windsor into Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.
You can’t make the Duchess of Windsor into Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. The facts of life are very stubborn things.
I can’t take a well-tanned person seriously.
Opera is like a husband with a foreign title: expensive to support, hard to understand, and therefore a supreme social challenge.
Giving the cat a name, like marriage, is not an easy thing. Soon I experienced the selection of name for a baby, a dog, a book, a warship, a sports team, even the king, the pope or a hurricane is just child’s play compared to the selection of the cat’s name.
You cannot expect everything even from the friendliest cat. It is still a cat.
The facts of life are very stubborn things.
There are three terrible ages of childhood – 1 to 10, 10 to 20, and 20 to 30.
Man has an infinite capacity to rationalize – especially when it comes to what he wants to eat.
It has long been a theory of mine and I am known, if I do say so, for my long theories that authors, generally speaking, are rotten letter writers.
A “good” family, it seems, is one that used to be better.
Relations between the sexes are so complicated that the only way you can tell if members of the set are going together is if they are married. Then, almost certainly, they are not.
You can give of your talent, you can give of your possessions, or you can give of yourself. For God’s sake, give something.
I will omit but I will not distort.
It suddenly dawned on me one day, when I was reading in the paper about a woman wrestler, that being a curmudgeon was the last thing in the world that a man can be that a woman cannot be. Women can be irritating – after all, they are women – but they cannot be curmudgeons.
The customer is always right! John Wanamaker must be turning in his grave. If you’re a customer today, you’re an intruder.
The people that set one animal against another haven’t the guts to be bullies themselves. They’re just secondhand cowards.