Quote

Middle-age is when you're sitting at home on a Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you.

Ogden Nash

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Ogden Nash
Age: 68 †
Born: 1902
Born: August 19
Died: 1971
Died: May 19
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
New York
United States
Frederic Ogden Nash
Night
Witty
Reality
Rings
Telephone
Home
Humorous
Telephones
Sitting
Friday
Middle
Saturday
Age
Weekend
Funny
Birthday
Hope
Sunday

More quotes by Ogden Nash

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Tonight's December thirty-first, something is about to burst. The clock is crouching, dark and small, like a time bomb in the hall. Hark, it's midnight, children dear. Duck! Here comes another year!
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Why did the Lord give use so much quickness unless it was to avoid responsibility?
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Neath tile or thatch That man is rich Who has a scratch For every itch.
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When grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window.
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Stuyvesant chats with Kelly and Katz, The professor warms to the broker, And life is good in the brotherhood Of an air-conditioned smoker.
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So I hope husbands and wives will continue to debate and combat Over everything debatable and combatable Because I believe a little incompatibility is the spice of life Particularly if he has income and she is pattable.
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There are two kinds of people who blow through life like a breeze, And one kind is gossipers, and the other kind is gossipees.
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They take the paper and they read the headlines. So they've heard of unemployment and they've heard of bread-lines. And they philanthropically cure them all by getting up a costume charity ball.
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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.
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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.
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The doctor gets you when you're born, The preacher, when you marry, And the lawyer lurks with costly clerks If too much on you carry. Professional men, they have no cares Whatever happens, they get theirs.
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Some one invented the telephone, And interrupted a nation's slumbers, Ringing wrong but similar numbers.
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The codfish is a staple food For which I'm seldom in the mood. This fish is such an utter loss That people eat it with egg sauce.
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Professional men, they have no cares whatever happens, they get theirs.
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The noblest lord is ushered in By the practicing physician, And the humblest lout is ushered out By a certified mortician. And in between, they find their foyers Alive with summonses from lawyers.
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I would live all my life in nonchalance and insouciance, were it not for making living, which is rather a nouciance.
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He is not drunk, who from the floor, can rise and stand and shout for more
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Celery, raw, Develops the jaw
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We love the kindly wind and hail, The jolly thunderbolt, We watch in glee the fairy trail Of ampere, watt, and volt.
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Winter is the king of showmen, Turning tree stumps into snowmen And houses into birthday cakes And spreading sugar over lakes. Smooth and clean and frosty white, The world looks good enough to bite. That’s the season to be young, Catching snowflakes on your tongue. Snow is snowy when it’s snowing, I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.
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