This writer was the wittiest woman ever:
1. "I didn't call her anything. 'Hey, you,' was about the best I could do."
2. On the immaculate conception: "Spontaneous combustion."
3. "From these foundations of the autumn wardrobe, one may learn that brevity is the soul of lingerie."
4. In a Vanity Fair review of a musical, she did not state the names of the cast because she was "not going to tell on them."
5. On her tiny shared office: "An inch smaller and it would have been adultery."
6. A telegram sent to the detested wife of a friend after she gave birth:
7. Discussing the Yale prom, she said if all the girls in attendance were laid end to end, she wouldn't be at all surprised.
8. Take that, Mr. Parker:
9. To an actor complaining about his busy schedule, she said, "I think you're full of skit."
10. When asked why she named her dog Cliché, she said, "the streets are carpeted with black French poodles."
Source: Marion Meade's What Fresh Hell Is This?, which I recommend despite its highly alarming system for endnotes.