My mother is such a lousy cook that Thanksgiving at her house is a time of sorrow.
I burned sixty calories. That should take care of a peanut I had in 1962.
I'm a very simple person. I'm very shallow. Shallow, simple, easily pleased: that's me.
Individuality in dressing is not important to men. If they all look alike it means they haven't made a mistake.
I loved my mother very much, but she was not a good cook. Most turkeys taste better the day after; my mother's tasted better the day before. In our house Thanksgiving was a time for sorrow.
Men would like monogamy better if it sounded less like monotony.