I tell ya, I don't get no respect ... Last week, my wife told me that she was going to cut me down to twice a month. But I thought about it, and I figured that it wasn't too bad. I know a couple of guys that she cut out completely.

I've been writing jokes since I'm fifteen. Not out of happiness, but to go to a different place, because reality wasn't good to me.

When I was forty, I was getting divorced, living in a low-class, dirty hotel in New York. My mother was dying of cancer. I owed $20,000. That was about the lowest. I came back to show business, and I couldn't get a job. I was turned down by every small-time agent in New York.

I once went out with this girl, she was no bargain either, she showed up with pigtails under her arms.

My parents didn't like me. For bathtub toys they gave me a blender and a transistor radio.

If you could learn to make love, I could fire the chauffer.

I bought a new book, '100 new ways to make love'. I ended up in traction - it was a misprint.