How about slipping out of those wet things and into a dry Martini?

There are bad times just around the corner, There are dark clouds travelling through the sky, And it's no good whining, About a silver lining, For we know from experience they won't roll by...

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun; The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to; Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one, But Englishmen detest a siesta.

For gin, in cruel sober truth, supplies the fuel for flaming youth.

People are wrong when they say opera is not what it used to be. It is what it used to be. That is what's wrong with it.

It's never too early for a cocktail.

Dear 338171 (May I call you 338?)