James Thurber
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"James Grover Thurber" was an American cartoonist, author, journalist, playwright, and celebrated wit. Thurber was best known for his gag cartoon/cartoons and short story/short stories, published mainly in The New Yorker magazine and collected in his numerous books. One of the most popular List of humorists/humorists of his time, Thurber celebrated the comic frustrations and eccentricities of ordinary people. In collaboration with his college friend, Elliott Nugent, he wrote the Broadway comedy, The Male Animal, later adapted into a film, which starred Henry Fonda and Olivia de Havilland.

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There are two kinds of light--the glow that illuminates, and the glare that obscures.

Love is the strange bewilderment that overtakes one person on account of another person.

All human beings should try to learn before they die what they are running from, and to, and why.

I do not have a psychiatrist and I do not want one, for the simple reason that if he listened to me long enough, he might become disturbed.

Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain desires; I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street.

I think that maybe if women and children were in charge we would get somewhere.

A husband should not insult his wife publicly, at parties. He should insult her in the privacy of the home.

The paths of glory at least lead to the grave, but the paths of duty may not get you any where.

Her own mother lived the latter years of her life in the horrible suspicion that electricity was dripping invisibly all over the house.

The wit makes fun of other persons; the satirist makes fun of the world; the humorist makes fun of himself.

Why do you have to be a nonconformist like everybody else?

But what is all this fear of and opposition to Oblivion? What is the matter with the soft Darkness, the Dreamless Sleep?

I loathe the expression 'What makes him tick.' It is the American mind, looking for simple and singular solution, that uses the foolish expression. A person not only ticks, he also chimes and strikes the hour, falls and breaks and has to be put together again, and sometimes stops like an electric clock in a thunderstorm.

Nowadays men lead lives of noisy desperation.

Early to rise and early to bed makes a male healthy and wealthy and dead.

He knows all about art, but he doesn't know what he likes.

Humor is emotional chaos remembered in tranquility.

Love is what you've been through with somebody.

You might as well fall flat on your face as lean over too far backward.

It had only one fault. It was kind of lousy.

Human Dignity has gleamed only now and then and here and there, in lonely splendor, throughout the ages, a hope of the better men, never an achievement of the majority.

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.

It is better to know some of the questions than all of the answers.

Well, if I called the wrong number, why did you answer the phone?

The only rules comedy can tolerate are those of taste, and the only limitations those of libel.

Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness.

He who hesitates is sometimes saved.

You can fool too many of the people too much of the time.

If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.

A woman's place is in the wrong.

He wondered if he would kiss her and when he would kiss her and if she wanted to be kissed and if she were thinking of it, but she asked him what he would have to eat tonight at his hotel. He said clam chowder. Thursday, he said, they always have clam chowder. Is that the way you know it's Thursday, she said, or is that the way you know it's clam chowder?

There is no safety in numbers, or in anything else.