Failure has gone to his head.
To my embarrassment I was born in bed with a lady.
Easy street is a blind alley.
I hate careless flattery, the kind that exhausts you in your efforts to believe it.
He's the only man I ever knew who had rubber pockets so he could steal soup.
The day which we fear as our last is but the bday of eternity. - By SenecaThe first hundred years are the hardest.