Someday I'll wish upon a star.
How are things in Glocca Mora this fine day?
April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees.
This we learn from Watergate that almost any creep'll be glad to help the Government overthrow the people.
There ought to be a law against necessity.
They who meet on an April night are forever lost in love, if there's moonlight all about and there's no moon above.