“The odds of going to the store for a loaf of bread and coming out with only a loaf of bread are three billion to one.”

Housework is a treadmill from futility to oblivion with stop-offs at tedium and counter productivity.

Grandparenthood is one of life’s rewards for surviving your own children.

I’ve exercised with women so thin that buzzards followed them to their cars.

Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

I am not a glutton – I am an explorer of food.

I haven’t trusted polls since I read that 62% of women had affairs during their lunch hour. I’ve never met a woman in my life who would give up lunch for sex.

The grass is always greener over the septic tank.

People usually survive their illnesses, but the paper work eventually does them in. Filing a claim for insurance is terminal.

Kids need love the most when they’re acting most unlovable.

Like religion, politics, and family planning, cereal is not a topic to be brought up in public. It’s too controversial.

Once you see the drivers in Indonesia you understand why religion plays such a part in their lives.

If I had my life to live over, instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished ever moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

One never realizes how different a husband and wife can be until they begin to pack for a trip.

Laughter rises out of tragedy when you need it the most, and rewards you for your courage.

Humor is a spontaneous, wonderful bit of an outburst that just comes. It’s unbridled, its unplanned, it’s full of suprises.

I must have a drink of breakfast.

Of course reading and thinking are important but, my God, food is important too.

Just because a chicken was born in the oven doesn’t make it a biscuit.

I personally stay away from natural foods. At my age I need all the preservatives I can get.

When I was young I used to eat ketchup sandwiches – just bread and ketchup.

Last time I was down South I walked into this restaurant, and this white waitress came up to me and said: ‘We don’t serve colored people here.’ I said: ‘that’s all right, I don’t eat colored people. Bring me a whole fried chicken.

Ah, the patter of little feet around the house. There’s nothing like having a midget for a butler.

I didn’t squawk about the steak, dear. I merely said I didn’t see that old horse that used to be tethered outside here.