Quote

Oh, innocent victims of Cupid, remember this terse little verse: To let a fool kiss you is stupid. To let a kiss fool you is worse.

Yip Harburg

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Yip Harburg
Age: 84 †
Born: 1896
Born: April 8
Died: 1981
Died: March 5
Composer
Lyricist
Poet
Screenwriter
Songwriter
Edgar Yipsel Yip Harburg
Edgar Yipsel Harburg
E. Y. Harburg
Isidore Hochberg
Fool
Valentine
Stupid
Verses
Remember
Victims
Littles
Kiss
Little
Innocent
Victim
Terse
Kissing
Cupid
Worse
Verse

More quotes by Yip Harburg

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A Russian child asked his mother : does God know we don't believe in Him?
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Say, it's only a paper moon, / Sailing over a cardboard sea.
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No matter how much I prove and prod, I cannot quite believe in God But oh, I hope to God that He, Unswervingly believes in me.
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The greatest romance in the life of a lyricist is when the right word meets the right note often, however, a Park Avenue phrase elopes with a Bleecker Street chord, resulting in a shotgun wedding and a quickie divorce.
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Lives of great men all remind us greatness takes no easy way.
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Someday I'll wish upon a star.
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Words make you think a thought. Music makes you feel a feeling. A song makes you feel a thought.
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Lives of great men all remind us, Greatness takes no easy way, All the heroes of tomorrow, Are the heretics of today. Socrates and Galileo, John Brown, Thoreau, Christ, and Debs, Heard the night cry Down with traitors! And the dawn shout Up the rebs!
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It's a Barnum and Bailey world, Just as phony as it can be...
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April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.
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If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I?
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My heart wants roots My mind wants wings. I cannot bear Their bickerings.
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As the writer of the lyric of the song 'God's Country,' I am outraged by the suggestion that somehow I am connected with, believe in, or am sympathetic with Communist or totalitarian philosophy.
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Music gives 'wings' to words.
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The world would be a safer place, If someone had a plan, Before exploring outer space, To find the inner man.
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Once I built a railroad now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?
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How are things in Glocca Mora this fine day?
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When the idle poor, Become the idle rich, You'll never know, Just who is who, Or who is which.
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Did God who gave us flowers and trees, Also provide the allergies?
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They who meet on an April night are forever lost in love, if there's moonlight all about and there's no moon above.
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