“There are holes in the sky Where the rain gets in, But they’re ever so small That’s why rain is thin.”

I spent many years laughing at Harry Secombe’s singing until somebody told me that it wasn’t a joke.

Any man can be 62, but it takes a bus to be 62A.

Listen, someone’s screaming in agony- fortunately I speak it fluently.

Australia, Australia, we love you from the heart. The kidneys, the liver & the giblets too. And every other part.

In India a farmhand was caught in the act with his cow. He said he had bad eyesight and thought it was his wife.

Its all in the mind, you know.

This silent call you make, A silence so loud I fear the world knows it’s meaning If you fill every corner of a room Where can I look? If I close my eyes the silence becomes louder! There is no escape from you The only way out is in

We haven’t got a plan so nothing can go wrong!

Are you going to come quietly, or do I have to use earplugs?

Her mother was a cultivated woman – she was born in a greenhouse.

In the human race today, you came last.

How long was I in the army? Five foot eleven.

Education isn’t everything, for a start it isn’t an elephant.

I shook hands with a friendly Arab. I still have my right arm to prove it.

To Harry Secombe: I hope you die first as I don’t want you singing at my funeral.

Is there anything worn under the kilt? No, it’s all in perfect working order.

Oh say, can you see, it’s really such a mess. Every inch of earth is a fighting nest. Giant pencial and lipstick tube shaped things, continue to rain and cause scream and pain, and the arctic stains from silver blue to bloody red.

Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.

I hear the rain fall and suddenly I don’t feel so alone because the sky is crying too.

You can’t be afraid of a little rain when you invite the storm in for a cup of coffee.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

Spring rain leaking through the roof dripping from the wasps’ nest.

The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night And I love the rain.

Let the rain sing you a lullaby.