Everybody Worships Me, It's Nauseating.

I Love Criticism Just So Long As It's Unqualified Praise.

Someday I Suspect, When Jesus Has Definitely Got Me For A Sunbeam, My Works May Be Adequately Assessed.

I See Her As One Great Stampede Of Lips Directed At The Nearest Derriere.

Fifty-four Years Of Love And Tenderness And Crossness And Devotion And Unswerving Loyalty. Without Her I Could Have Achieved A Quarter Of What I Have Achieved, Not Only In Terms Of Success And Career, But In Terms Of Personal Happiness.

Wit Is Like Caviar - It Should Be Served In Small Portions And Not Spread About Like Marmalade.