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Oh, what a tangled web do parents weave, when they think that their children are naive.

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
Family
War
Weave
Children
Tangled
Think
Naive
Thinking
Users
Drug
Parents
Parent

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The only way I can distinguish proper from improper fractions is by their actions
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Time is like the ocean, always there, always different.
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The only incurable troubles of the rich are the troubles that money can't cure, Which is a kind of trouble that is even more troublesome if you are poor.
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I was born a jackdaw why should I try to be an owl?
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The old men know when an old man dies.
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Beneath this slab John Brown is stowed. He watched the ads, And not the road.
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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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I drink because she nags, she said I nag because he drinks. But if the truth be known to you, He's a lush and she's a shrew.
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Smallpox is natural vaccine ain't.
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The reason for much matrimony is patrimony.
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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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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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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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Some hate broccoli, some hate bacon I hate having my picture taken. How can your family claim to love you And then demand a picture of you?
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Too much Chablis can make you whablis.
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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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When there are monsters there are miracles.
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This is my dream, It is my own dream, I dreamt it. I dreamt that my hair was kempt. Then I dreamt that my true love unkempt it.
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