My mind works . . . two boobs never get me a job.
There would have been more 'I love you's' and more, 'I'm sorry's'.
A kitchen without an ironing board? Are you kidding? It's un-American. It's like Simon without Garfunkel.
Poached eggs are good, poached animals are not.
I'm on a diet as my skin doesn't fit me anymore.
Our teen-agers withdrew to their bedrooms on their thirteenth birthday and didn't show themselves to us again until it was time to get married.
I will never understand children. I never pretended to. I meet mothers all the time who make resolutions to themselves. 'I'm going to ... go out of my way to show them I am interested in them and what they do. I am going to understand my children.' These women end up making rag rugs, using blunt scissors.
Limousines used to be reserved for the ruling class, or, on special occasions, for the working class. Today, limousines are like taxicabs with the door handles still intact.
Most children's first words are 'Mama' or 'Daddy.' Mine were, 'Do I have to use my own money?'
Authorities say brain cells may shrink, but they don't necessarily die. Frankly, I am cheered by the fact that something is shrinking. I'd be even more thrilled if what was shrinking affected my dress size, but you can't have everything.
I'm so bored. I went to the food locker yesterday to visit my meat.
I convinced him his luggage had gone to that big Bermuda Triangle in the sky.
Crocodiles have a smile I've seen on the face of every lawyer I've ever met.
Good kids are like sunsets. We take them for granted.
I originate from a family where sauce is viewed as a refreshment.
Not everyone is comfortable with the kissing ritual. My husband is one of them. Her refuses to press lips with anyone except his wife, mother, and dog. If someone wanted to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, he would refuse until he had been formally introduced.
One meal a day is enough for a lion and would be for all of us if all we did all day was swat flies.
Last year I gave seventy-four phone hours to soliciting baked goods for the Bake-A-Rama. I was named Top Call Girl by the League.
I never go to a college reunion that I don't come away feeling sorry for all those paunchy, balding jocks trying to hang onto youth. I feel sorry for the men, too.
Let us hope manufacturers can come up with a diaper that is environmentally sound. To go back to cloth would send us back to the day when breathing and raising a baby at the same time were incompatible.
After age twelve, birthdays should be as private as hernia surgery.
Humorists can never start to take themselves seriously. It's literary suicide.
It is difficult to single out one sport over another, but if I have to name one in my separation suit, it will undoubtedly be football.
For some unexplained reason, it's always the other end of the table that's wild and raucous, with screaming laughter and a fella who plays 'Holiday for Strings' on water glasses.
I have a hat. It is graceful and feminine and give me a certain dignity, as if I were attending a state funeral or something. Someday I may get up enough courage to wear it, instead of carrying it.
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