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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.

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
Life
Like
People
Breeze
Blow
Kinds
Kindness
Two
Kind

More quotes by Ogden Nash

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The door of a bigoted mind opens outwards so that the only result of the pressure of facts upon it is to close it more snugly.
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Where there is a monster, there is a miracle.
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Life has a tendency to obfuscate and bewilder, Such as fating us to spend the first part of our lives being embarrassed by our parents and the last part being embarrassed by our children.
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There is something about a martini, Ere the dining and dancing begin, And to tell you the truth, It is not the vermouth- I think that perhaps it's the gin.
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In the world of mules there are no rules.
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The dog is man's best friend. He has a tail on one end. Up in front he has teeth. And four legs underneath.
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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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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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I myself am more and more inclined to agree with Omar and Satchel Paige as I grow older: Don't try to rewrite what the moving finger has writ, and don't ever look over your shoulder.
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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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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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In real life, it takes only one to make a quarrel.
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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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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?
Ogden Nash
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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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Commitments the voters don't know about can't hurt you.
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Beneath this slab John Brown is stowed. He watched the ads, And not the road.
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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.
Ogden Nash
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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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Do you think my mind is maturing late, or simply rotted early?
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