«Love is the thing that enables a woman to sing while she mops up the floor after her husband has walked across it in his barn boots.»

«A lie can be halfway round the world before the truth has got its boots on.»

«I hate the way you talk to me. And the way you cut your hair. I hate the way you drive my car. I hate it when you stare I hate your big dumb combat boots. And the way you read my mind. I hate you so much it makes me sick - it even makes me rhyme. I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh - even worse when you make me cry. I hate it that you're not around. And the fact that you didnt call. But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you - not even close, not even a little bit, not any at all.»

«Does it follow that I reject all authority? Perish the thought. In the matter of boots, I defer to the authority of the boot-maker.»

«A lie travels round the world, while Truth is putting on her boots»

«He had a massive stroke. He died with his tie on. Do you think that could be our generation's equivalent of that old saying about dying with your boots on?»

«GEOLOGY, n. The science of the earth's crust --to which, doubtless, will be added that of its interior whenever a man shall come up garrulous out of a well. The geological formations of the globe already noted are catalogued thus: The Primary, or lower one, consists of rocks, bones or mired mules, gas-pipes, miners' tools, antique statues minus the nose, Spanish doubloons and ancestors. The Secondary is largely made up of red worms and moles. The Tertiary comprises railway tracks, patent pavements, grass, snakes, mouldy boots, beer bottles, tomato cans, intoxicated citizens, garbage, anarchists, snap-dogs and fools.»

«If you could see my legs when I take my boots off, you'd form some idea of what unrequited affection is.»

«He calls the knaves, Jacks, this boy! . . . And what coarse hands he has! And what thick boots!»

«He is a man of thirty-five, but looks fifty. He is bald, has varicose veins and wears spectacles, or would wear them if his only pair were not chronically lost. If things are normal with him, he will be suffering from malnutrition, but if he has recently had a lucky streak, he will be suffering from a hangover. At present it is half past eleven in the morning, and according to his schedule he should have started work two hours ago; but even if he had made any serious effort to start he would have been frustrated by the almost continuous ringing of the telephone bell, the yells of the baby, the rattle of an electric drill out in the street, and the heavy boots of his creditors clumping up the stairs. The most recent interruption was the arrival of the second post, which brought him two circulars and an income tax demand printed in red. Needless to say this person is a writer.»