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The more you earn, the less you keep, And now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to take, If the tax-collector hasn't got it before I wake.
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
Taxes
Collector
Sleep
Collectors
Lord
Earn
Less
Hasn
Keep
Lays
Soul
Wake
Take
Pray
Praying
Abracadabra
More quotes by Ogden Nash
Maybe I couldn't be dafter, But I keep wondering if this time we settle our differences before a war instead of after.
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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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The reason for much matrimony is patrimony.
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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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Wind is caused by the trees waving their branches.
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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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If some confectioners were willing To let the shape announce the filling, We'd encounter fewer assorted chocs, Bitten into and returned to the box.
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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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The only people who should really sin are the people who can sin and grin.
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When I ponder my mind I consistently find It is glued On food.
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When there are monsters there are miracles.
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The old men know when an old man dies.
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A bit of talcum Is always walcum.
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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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At another year I would not boggle Except that when I jog I joggle.
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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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A lady is known by the product she endorses.
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All husbands are alike, but they have different faces so you can tell them apart.
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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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