I can’t talk about Hollywood. It was a horror to me when I was there and it’s a horror to look back on. I can’t imagine how I did it. When I got away from it I couldn’t even refer to the place by name. ”Out there,” I called it.
You do what you can, and you do it because you should. But all you can do is all you can do.
There was always something immensely comic to her in the thought of living elsewhere than New York. She could not regard as serious proposals that she share a western residence.
Now to me, Edith looks like something that would eat her young.
People Who Do Things exceed my endurance; God, for a man that solicits insurance!
I shudder at the thought of men…. I’m due to fall in love again
[On being told party guests were ducking for apples:] There, but for a typographical error, is the story of my life.
The House Beautiful is the play lousy.
Now that you’ve got me right down to it, the only thing I didn’t like about The Barrets of Wimplole Street was the play.
Women and elephants never forget.
Somewhere, there, is an analogy, in a small way, if you have the patience for it. But I guess it isn’t a very good anecdote. I’m better at animal stories.
They tire of quiet, that have known the storm