People expect old men to die, They do not really mourn old men. Old men are different. People look At them with eyes that wonder when ... People watch with unshocked eyes; But the old men know when an old man dies.
Whether elected or appointed he considers himself the Lord's anointed, and indeed the ointment lingers on him so thick you can't get your fingers on him.
Maybe I couldn't be dafter, But I keep wondering if this time we settle our differences before a war instead of after.
I hope my tongue in prune juice smothers, If I belittle dogs and mothers.
One man's remorse is another man's reminiscence.
But all ladies think they weigh too much.
When I remember bygone days I think how evening follows morn So many I loved were not yet dead, So many I love were not yet born.
Snow is all right while it is snowing; it is like inebriation because it is very pleasing when it is coming, but very unpleasing when it is going.
At another year I would not boggle Except that when I jog I joggle.
One rule which woe betides the banker who fails to heed it/Never lend any money to anybody unless they don't need it.
But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he had to invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate them, With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers to people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot of wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.
The bed is a bundle of paradoxes: we go to it with reluctance, yet we quit it with regret; we make up our minds every night to leave it early, but we make up our bodies every morning to keep it late.
The only way I can distinguish proper from improper fractions is by their actions
The further through life I drift the more obvious it becomes that I am lacking in thrift.
O thrice unhappy home Whose master doesn't know the difference between a watt and an ohm!
Ten years ago she split the air To seize what she could spy Tonight she bumps against a chair, Betrayed by milky eye. She seems to pant, Time up, time up! My little dog must die, And lie in dust with Hector's pup; I So, presently, must I.
Your hair may be brushed, but your mind's untidy. You've had about seven hours of sleep since Friday. No wonder you feel that lost sensation. You're sunk from a riot of relaxation.
Stuyvesant chats with Kelly and Katz, The professor warms to the broker, And life is good in the brotherhood Of an air-conditioned smoker.
Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with. And with whom they breakfast with and sup with. They interfere with the discipline of nurseries, And forget anniversaries, And when they have been particularly remiss, They think they can cure everything with a great big kiss.
Sleep is perverse as human nature, Sleep is perverse as legislature.... So people who go to bed to sleep Must count French premiers or sheep, And people who ought to arise from bed Yawn and go back to sleep instead.
Professional men, they have no cares; whatever happens, they get theirs.
A dressing is not a compote A dressing is not a custard It consists of pepper and salt, Vinegar, oil and mustard.
Poets arent very usefulBecause they aren't consumeful or produceful.
A bird in the open never looks Like its picture in the birdie books - Or if it once did, it has changed its plumage, And plunges you back into ignorant gloomage.
A lady wants to be dressed exactly like everybody else but she gets pretty up- set if she sees anybody else dressed exactly like her.
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