Whoever named it necking was a poor judge of anatomy.

[He] may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but don't let that fool you: he really is an idiot.

Here lies Groucho Marx and Lies and Lies and Lies P.S. He never kissed an ugly girl.

I've got the brain of a four year old. I'll bet he was glad to be rid of it.

My favourite poem is the one that starts 'Thirty days hath September' because it actually tells you something.

Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor.

Ever since they found out that Lassie was a boy, the public has believed the worst about Hollywood