Despite all our toil and progress, the art of medicine still falls somewhere between trout casting and spook writing. — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
I haunted streets, whorehouses, police stations, courtrooms, theater stages, jails, saloons, slums, madhouses, fires, murders, riots, banquet halls and bookshops. I ran… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
People's sex habits are as well known in Hollywood as their political opinions, and much less criticized. — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Movies are one of the bad habits that have corrupted our century. They have slipped into the American mind more misinformation in one evening… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Chicago is a sort of journalistic Yellowstone Park, offering haven to a last herd of fantastic bravos. — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
I know that a man who shows me his wealth is like the beggar who shows me his poverty; they are both looking for… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Listen, little boy. In this business, there's only one law you gotta follow to keep outta trouble. Do it first, do it yourself, and… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
There's only one law you gotta follow to keep outta trouble. Do it first, do it yourself, and keep on doin' it. — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
The only practical way yet discovered by the world for curing its ills is to forget about them. — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Since my boyhood, I have sought always to please, but out of a kindness in me, never out of fear or respect for what… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
“was asked, ‘Can you bring six million Jews to Palestine?’ I replied, ‘No.’ . . . The old ones will pass. They will bear… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
“I noticed early that pompous people have actually less a high opinion of themselves than a desire to create such an opinion in others.” — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Three years ago, the white hope of the theatre. Today, a mug. That's New York for you. Puts you on a Christmas tree, and… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
Television excites me because it seems to be the last stamping ground of poetry, the last place where I hear women's hair rhapsodically described,… — Ben Hecht Copy Share Image
