Love flies out the door when money comes innuendo.

Jail is no place for a young fellow. There's no advancement.

Wages? You want to be wage slaves? Answer me that! Of course not. What is it that makes wage slaves? Wages! I want you to be free. Strike off your chains! Strike up the band! Strike three you're out! Remember, there's nothing like Liberty, except Colliers and The Saturday Evening Post. Be free, now and forever. One and individual. One for all and all for me, and tea for two and six for a quarter.

This would be a better place for children if parents had to eat spinach.

Even the intellectual crowd will have none of me. Physically, I look like one of them. Graying at the temples, I walk with a slight limp and wear thick glasses.

Most young women do not welcome promiscuous advances. (Either that, or my luck's terrible.)

Why, I'd horse-whip you if I had a horse.