It happens to be a matter of record that I was first in print with the discovery that the tastelessness of the food offered in American clubs varies in direct proportion to the exclusiveness of the club.

I've always thought that parallel parking was my main talent.

If bumblebee leavings and stump paste are so good for you, why can't any of those guys (in the health stores) grow full beards?

I never eat in a restaurant that's over a hundred feet off the ground and won't stand still.

Perhaps we've time to have a look at the Number Thirty-One bus queue before we turn in.

There is no question that Rumanian-Jewish food is heavy. One meal is equal in heaviness, I would guess, to eight or nine years of steady mung-bean eating.

Do my ears deceive me, or can I actually hear the sounds of worms turning? You say a turning worm makes no sound? But how about a chorus of turning worms?