He's So Full Of Alcohol,

I Could Dance With You Until The Cows Come Home. On Second Thought I'd Rather Dance With The Cows Until You Come Home.

Die, My Dear? Why That's The Last Thing I'll Do!

Well, Art Is Art, Isn't It? Still, On The Other Hand, Water Is Water. And East Is East And West Is West And If You Take Cranberries And Stew Them Like Applesauce They Taste Much More Like Prunes Than Rhubarb Does. Now You Tell Me What You Know.

The Admission Fee Was A Viper's Tongue And A Half-concealed Stiletto. It Was A Sort Of Intellectual Slaughterhouse.

Don't Be Silly. I'll Write You Twice A Week.