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When grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window.
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
Grandchildren
Grandfather
Grandmother
Enter
Grandpa
Door
Grandparents
Window
Grandma
Discipline
Grandparent
Doors
Flies
More quotes by Ogden Nash
The Pig, if I am not mistaken, Supplies us sausage, ham, and Bacon. Let others say his heart is big, I think it stupid of the Pig.
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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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The old men know when an old man dies.
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Women would rather be right than reasonable.
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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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Sleep is perverse as human nature, Sleep is perverse as legislature.... So people who go to bed to sleep Must count French premiers or sheep, And people who ought to arise from bed Yawn and go back to sleep instead.
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A bit of talcum Is always walcum.
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The oboe's a horn made of wood. I'd play you a tune if I could, But the reeds are a pain, And the fingering's insane. It's the ill wind that no one blows good.
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Here's a toast to the roast that good fellowship lends, with the sparkle of beer and wine May its sentiment always be deeper, my friends, than the foam at the top of the stein. Then here's to the heartening wassail, wherever good fellows are found Be its master instead of its vassal, and order the glasses around.
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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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I am a conscientious man, when I throw rocks at seabirds I leave no tern unstoned.
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When there are monsters there are miracles.
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When I ponder my mind I consistently find It is glued On food.
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Don't Cry Darling, It's Blood All Right
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I'm like a backward berry, Unripened on the vine, For all my friends are fifty, And I'm only forty-nine.
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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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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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In the world of mules there are no rules.
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Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with. And with whom they breakfast with and sup with. They interfere with the discipline of nurseries, And forget anniversaries, And when they have been particularly remiss, They think they can cure everything with a great big kiss.
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Do you think my mind is maturing late, or simply rotted early?
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