The worst disgrace that can befall a producer is an unkind notice from a New York reviewer. When this happens, the producer becomes a pariah in Hollywood. He is shunned by his friends, thrown into bankruptcy, and like a Japanese electing hara-kiri, he commits suttee. A great bonfire is made of the film, and the luckless producer, followed by directors, actors, technicians, and the producer's wives, immolate themselves. Only the scenario writers are exempt. These are tied between the tails of two spirited Caucasian ponies, which are then driven off in opposite directions. This custom is called 'a conference'.

'Oh, son, I wish you hadn't become a scenario writer!' she sniffled. 'Aw, now, Moms,' I comforted her, 'it's no worse than playing the piano in a call house.'

I guess I'm just an old mad scientist at bottom. Give me an underground laboratory, half a dozen atom-smashers, and a beautiful girl in a diaphanous veil waiti…

'Great-grandfather died under strange circumstances. He opened a vein in his bath.' 'I never knew baths had veins,' protested Gabrilowitsch.' 'I never knew his…

'What is called music today is all too often only a disguise for the monologue of power. However, and this is the supreme irony of it all, never before have mu…

I think governments are the cancer of civilization.

Government is good at one thing: It knows how to break your legs, hand you a crutch, and say, 'See, if it weren't for the government, you wouldn't be able to w…