[to Jean Harlow, Who Repeatedly Mispronounced Her

Lloyd George? There Is No Lloyd George. There Is A Marvellous Brain; But If You Were To Shut Him In A Room And Look Through The Keyhole There Would Be Nobody There.

Symbols Are The Imaginative Signposts Of Life.

She Spends Her Day Powdering Her Face Till She Looks Like A Bled Pig.

To Marry A Man Out Of Pity Is Folly; And, If You Think You Are Going To Influence The Kind Of Fellow Who Has Never Had A Chance, Poor Devil, You Are Profoundly Mistaken. One Can Only Influence The Strong Characters In Life, Not The Weak; And It Is The Height Of Vanity To Suppose That You Can Make An Honest Man Of Anyone.

His Modesty Amounts To Deformity.