He was able to discourse interminably on the subject of his own greatness, and on one occasion he subjected Aaron Copland to a lengthy diatribe. Unable to stand it anymore, Copland got up to leave. “Why, Aaron, you’re becoming an egomaniac. You used to be able to listen to me all night.”
Seated at dinner next to an attractive young lady, Levant failed to stifle a yawn. “Am I keeping you up?” she asked. “I wish you were,” he answered.
He had three daughters with his non-Jewish second wife. He referred to his family as the goyim and exhorted his children to “Finish your martinis before you leave the table.”
When introduced to Greta Garbo, Oscar quipped, “Sorry, I didn’t catch the name.” He later remarked that he had been so overcome by her glamour that all he could do was to stammer the line that ironically has become a prime example of his self-possessed wit.
His first wife subsequently married movie theater tycoon Arthur Loew. At two A.M. on their wedding night, Levant called her and asked, “What’s playing at the Loew’s State and what time does the feature go on?”
In the late fifties he hosted a local TV show in Los Angeles with his second wife, June, and one night he fell asleep while interviewing a guest. When June tried to nudge him awake, he groused, “Wake me when he’s through.”
To an obnoxious acquaintance: “I’m going to memorize your name and throw my head away.”
After dinner at the White House, Levant turned to his wife and said, “Now I suppose we’ll have to have the Trumans over to our house.”
During a poker game he was told of Judy Garland’s latest suicide attempt. “Let’s see,” he said, dealing a hand, “she’s two up on me in suicide attempts, but I’m three up on her in nervous breakdowns. Or is it the other way around?”