Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected. ~Red Buttons
First you forget names; then you forget faces; then you forget to zip up your fly; and then you forget to unzip your fly. ~Branch Rickey
Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected. ~Red Buttons
You're not 40, you're eighteen with 22 years experience. ~Author Unknown
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com
Dad, you're someone to look up to no matter how tall I've grown. ~Author Unknown
In childhood, we yearn to be grown-ups. In old age, we yearn to be kids. It just seems that all would be wonderful if we didn't have to celebrate our birthdays in chronological order. ~Robert Brault, www.robertbrault.com
I'm sixty years of age. That's 16 Celsius. ~George Carlin, Brain Droppings, 1997
Youth would be an ideal state if it came a little later in life. ~Herbert Asquith
Henry James once defined life as that predicament which precedes death, and certainly nobody owes you a debt of honor or gratitude for getting him into that predicament. But a child does owe his father a debt, if Dad, having gotten him into this peck of trouble, takes off his coat and buckles down to the job of showing his son how best to crash through it. ~Clarence Budington Kelland
There is still no cure for the common birthday. ~John Glenn
There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter, and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself. ~John Gregory Brown, Decorations in a Ruined Cemetery, 1994
No comments:
Post a Comment