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| S. J. Perelman -- Quote #1 |
Their the waiters' eyes sparkled and their pencils flew as she proceeded to eviscerate my wallet - pt, Whitstable oysters, a sole, filet mignon, and a favorite salad of the Nizam of Hyderabad made of shredded five-pound notes. -- S. J. Perelman
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| S. J. Perelman -- Quote #2 |
Love is not the dying moan of a distant violin .. it's the triumphant twang of a bedspring. -- S. J. Perelman
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| Displaying 1 to 2 (of 2 quotes) |
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