To label any subject unsuitable for comedy is to admit defeat.

Vocal music is an attempt to take the whole human being and project it into space. It is the ultimate gesture of getting out of yourself. You take a part of you that is most private, most personal, most inward and you hurl it out into space - you project it as far as you can. That gesture of opining this whole region of the body results in an enormous spiritual release, and is felt by other people with tremendous impact.

To see me as a person on screen would be one of the dullest experiences you could ever wish to experience.

Conversation like television set on honeymoon... unnecessary.

Now then, what do we know? One, that Professor Fassbinder and his daughter have been kidnapped. Two, that someone has kidnapped them. Three, that my hand is on fire.

Gentlemen, you can't fight in here! This is the War Room.

Clouseau: Does yer dewg bite? Inn Keeper: No Clouseau: Nice Doggy (bends down to pet a dachshund - it snarls and bites him) I thought you said yer dewg did not bite! Inn Keeper: Zat . . . iz not my dog!