On Monday mornings I am dedicated to the proposition that all men are created jerks.
Many people die of thirst but the Irish are born with one.
On Monday, when the sun is hot, I wonder to myself a lot. Now is it true, or is it not, that what is which and which is what?
Monday is the day of silence, day of the whole white mung bean, which is sacred to the moon.
I went to the doctors the other day and I said, 'have you got anything for wind?' So he gave me a kite.
There are no miracles on Mondays.
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