All geniuses die young.
Just give me a comfortable couch, a dog, a good book, and a woman. Then if you can get the dog to go somewhere and read the book, I might have a little fun.
I cannot say that I don't disagree with you.
Growing old is something you do if you're lucky.
Here lies Groucho Marx and Lies and Lies and Lies P.S. He never kissed an ugly girl.
The admission fee was a viper's tongue and a half-concealed stiletto. It was a sort of intellectual slaughterhouse.