James Thurber Quotes
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Early to rise and early to bed makes a man healthy, wealthy, and dead.
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Don't count your boobies until they are hatched.
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A word to the wise is not sufficient if it doesn't make sense.
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Man has gone long enough, or even too long, without being man enough to face the simple truth that the trouble with man is man.
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Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that can happen to a man.
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The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself, but in so doing, he identifies himself with people - that is, people everywhere, not for the purpose of taking them apart, but simply revealing their true nature.
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Man is flying too fast for a world that is round. Soon he will catch up with himself in a great rear end collision.
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The sanity of the average banquet speaker lasts about two and a half months; at the end of that time he begins to mutter to himself, and calls out in his sleep.
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There is something about a poet which leads us to believe that he died, in many cases, as long as 20 years before his birth.
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Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness.
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We all have faults, and mine is being wicked.
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I think that maybe if women and children were in charge we would get somewhere.
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Speed is scarcely the noblest virtue of graphic composition, but it has its curious rewards. There is a sense of getting somewhere fast, which satisfies a native American urge.
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Well, if I called the wrong number, why did you answer the phone?
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I am not a dog lover. A dog lover to me means a dog that is in love with another dog.
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Humor and pathos, tears and laughter are, in the highest expression of human character and achievement, inseparable.
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You can fool too many of the people too much of the time.
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All men kill the thing they hate, too, unless, of course, it kills them first.
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One martini is all right. Two are too many, and three are not enough.
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It is better to have loafed and lost, than never to have loafed at all.
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If a playwright tried to see eye to eye with everybody, he would get the worst case of strabismus since Hannibal lost an eye trying to count his nineteen elephants during a snowstorm while crossing the Alps.
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The nation that complacently and fearfully allows its artists and writers to become suspected rather than respected is no longer regarded as a nation possessed with humor or depth.
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But what is all this fear of and opposition to Oblivion? What is the matter with the soft Darkness, the Dreamless Sleep?
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Moral: Where most of us end up there is no knowing, but the hellbent get where they are going.