Button-cute, rapier-keen, wafer-thin and pauper-poor is S.J. Perelman, whose tall, stooping figure is better known to the twilit half-world of five continents than to Publishers' Row. That he possesses the power to become invisible to finance companies; that his laboratory is tooled up to manufacture Frankenstein-type monsters on an incredible scale; and that he owns one of the rare mouths in which butter has never melted are legends treasured by every schoolboy.

Fate was dealing from the bottom of the deck.

From the moment I picked up your book until I laid it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Someday I intend reading it.

[The waiters'] eyes sparkled and their pencils flew as she proceeded to eviscerate my wallet - pate, Whitstable oysters, a sole, and a favorite salad of the Ni…

hey Jack Kerouac I think of your mother and the tears she cried, she cried for none other than her little boy lost in our little world that hated and that dare…

The greatest playwright of the 20th century.

At present, I am a poet trying to be a soldier. To tell the truth, I am not interested in writing nowadays, except in so far as writing is the expression of so…