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Love Is Not The Dying Moan Of A Distant Violin - It's The Triumphant Twang Of A Bedspring.
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Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant
twang of a bedspring.
-- S.J. Perelman (1904-1979)
Related:
I loved him like a brothel. -- S. J. Perelma
Democracy can withstand anything but democrates. -- J. Harshaw 1904
Playing the violin must be like making love--all or nothing. -- Isaac Ste
There is nothing like a good painstaking survey full of decimal points and guarded generalizations to put a glaze like a Sung vase on your eyeball.
-- S. J. Perelma...
You may glory in a team triumphant, but you fall in love with a team in defeat.
-- _The Boys of Summer_...
If anyone wants to trade a couple of centrally located, well-cushioned showgirls for an eroded slope 90 minutes from Broadway, I'll be on this corner tomorrow at 11 with my tongue hanging out.
-- S. J. Perelma...
If anyone wants to trade a couple of centrally located, well-cushioned showgirls for an eroded slope 90 minutes from Broadway, I'll be on this corner tomorrow at 11 with my tongue hanging out.
-- S. J. Perelma...
I acquired my contact lenses a day or two later and they worked superbly.
To insert them was but the work of a moment: all I had to do was pry open my eyes with a buttonhook, force the lenses in, and gulp as though swallowing a Chincoteague oyster....
A violin minus the bow.