S. J. Perelman quotes
Fate was dealing from the bottom of the deck.
Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin - it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring.
Their the waiters' eyes sparkled and their pencils flew as she proceeded to eviscerate my wallet - p‰tŽ, Whitstable oysters, a sole, filet mignon, and a favorite salad of the Nizam of Hyderabad made of shredded five-pound notes.