I ache for the touch of your lips dear, but much more for the touch of your whips dear.

Political satire became obsolete when they awarded Henry Kissinger the Nobel Peace Prize.

For there is surely nothing more beautiful in this world than the sight of a lone man facing single-handedly a half a ton of angry pot roast!

Apart from that Mrs Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?

You can raise welts like nobody else, as we dance to the Masochism Tango.

The poor folks hate the rich folks, and the rich folks hate the poor folks. All of my folks hate all of your folks, it's American as apple pie.

Filth, I'm glad to say, is in the mind of the beholder. When correctly viewed, everything is lewd.