“Everybody knows what California smog is – that’s fog with the vitamins removed.”

When she started to play, Steinway came down personally and rubbed his name off the piano.

Contrary to what certain comedians have led you to believe, the national French pastime is picnicking.

You can calculate Zsa Zsa Gabor’s age by the rings on her fingers.

It was a typically British birth… I was three at the time. They had a strike in the maternity ward… I came out in sympathy.

We’re on our way to the Persian Gulf. Wait! It’s a mistake! I thought they said Persian Golf.

She said she was approaching forty, and I couldn’t help wondering from what direction.

If you think golf is relaxing, you’re not playing it right.

In England when you make a movie even the weather is against you.

To give you an idea of how fast we travelled – we left with two rabbits and when we arrived we still had only two.

I like to play in the low 70’s. If it gets any hotter than that I’ll stay in the bar!

Jimmy Stewart could have been a good golfer, but he speaks so slowly that by the time he yells ‘Fore!’ the guy he’s hit is already in an ambulance on the way to the hospital.

Rock and roll is catching on all over . . . France . . . England . . . They even have it in Japan, only over there they call it judo.

It’s very frustrating making a picture in Paris. We work hard all day at the studio to get a love scene just right. Then, on my way home, I see couples on every street corner doing it better.

On one hole, I hit an alligator so hard, he’s now my golf bag.

Golf is a game that needlessly prolongs the lives of some of our most useless citizens.

Sure Vietnam is a dirty war. I’ve never heard of a clean one.

I see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like it when life’s hidden. It gives you a chance to imagine nice things, nicer than they are.

It is as useless to fight against the interpretations of ignorance as to whip the fog.

When I drove for British teams… they called me The Tadpole because I was too small to be a frog.

I liken myself to Henry Ford and the auto industry, I give you 90 percent of what most people need.

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog where noone notices the contrast of white on white.

Fog and hypocrisy – that is to say, shadow, convention, decency – these were the very things that lent to London its poetry and romance.

Inside the fogs, you think better and thus you see better!

The fog is lifting I am healing- You don’t own my heart.