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
Sitting
Friday
Middle
Saturday
Age
Weekend
Funny
Birthday
Hope
Sunday
Night
Witty
Reality
Rings
Telephone
Home
Humorous
Telephones

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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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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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No, you never get any fun Out of the things you haven't done.
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Then blessings on thee, my afternoon torpor Thou makest a prince of a mental porpor.
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One man's remorse is another man's reminiscence.
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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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One rule which woe betides the banker who fails to heed it/Never lend any money to anybody unless they don't need it.
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Love is a word that is constantly heard, Hate is a word that is not. Love, I am told, is more precious than gold. Love, I have read, is hot. But hate is the verb that to me is superb, And Love but a drug on the mart. Any kiddie in school can love like a fool, But Hating, my boy, is an Art.
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But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he had to invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate them, With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers to people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot of wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.
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It is common knowledge to every schoolboy and even every Bachelor of Arts, That all sin is divided into two parts. One kind of sin is called a sin of commission, and that is very important
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The further through life I drift the more obvious it becomes that I am lacking in thrift.
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When I remember bygone days I think how evening follows morn So many I loved were not yet dead, So many I love were not yet born.
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There once was an umpire whose vision Was cause for abuse and derision He remarked in surprise, 'Why pick on my eyes? It's my heart that dictates my decision.'
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The Preacher, the Politicain, the Teacher, Were each of them once a kiddie. A child, indeed, is a wonderful creature. Do I want one? God Forbiddie!
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At another year I would not boggle Except that when I jog I joggle.
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Any kiddie in school can love like a fool, But Hating, my boy, is an Art.
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A husband is a man who two minutes after his head touches the pillow is snoring like an overloaded omnibus.
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Wind is caused by the trees waving their branches.
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Too much Chablis can make you whablis.
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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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