I used to sell furniture for a living. The trouble was, it was my own.

I can always tell when the mother in law's coming to stay; the mice throw themselves on the traps.

My wife is a sex object - every time I ask for sex, she objects.

I used to sell furniture for a living. The trouble was, it was my own.

Marriage is an institution and that's where a couple finish up.

I saw six men kicking and punching the mother-in-law. My neighbour said 'Are you going to help?' I said 'No, six should be enough.'

How can you analyse what is funny? What's funny to one isn't funny to another... What's funny to you is a personal thing.

I discovered the wife's got asthma. Thank God - I thought she was hissing at me.

I don't mind what the critics say, so long as I get some reaction. The worst thing is to be ignored.

I know my name will always be linked with women.

I need to give affection and love, because without that, I wither. I need to give that love to someone. Without that, I'm rudderless.

I took my mother-in-law to Madame Tussaud's Chamber of Horrors, and one of the attendants said: 'Keep her moving sir; we're stock-taking.'

I toyed with the idea of playing Ravel's 'Pavane pour une infante defunte' but I couldn't remember if it's a tune or Latin prescription for piles.

I went to the doctor last week. I said: 'Can I have some sleeping pills for the wife?' He said: 'Why?' I said: 'She's woke up.'

I'd like to thank the BBC for allowing me to work here. And I'd like to thank the wife and kids for making it necessary.

I'm often accused of saying some pretty rotten things about my mother-in-law. But quite honestly, she's only got one major fault - it's called breathing.

I'm the most unromantic lump of Northern suet. Yes, a woman did accost me once in South Shields, but she had a face like Red Rum.

I've just had some bad news. Tomorrow is the mother in law's funeral. And she's cancelled it.

In awe, I watched the waxing moon ride across the zenith of the heavens like an ambered chariot towards the ebony void of infinite space wherein the tethered belts of Jupiter and Mars hang, for ever festooned in their orbital majesty. And as I looked at all this I thought... I must put a roof on this toilet.

Mind you, I've always been musical... Mother used to sit me on her knee and I'd whisper, 'Mummy, Mummy, sing me a lullaby do,' and she'd say: 'Certainly my angel, my wee bundle of happiness, hold my beer while I fetch me banjo.'

My mother-in-law fell down a wishing well. I was amazed; I never knew they worked.

My mother-in-law has come round to our house at Christmas seven years running. This year we're having a change. We're going to let her in.

My mother-in-law has so many wrinkles, when she smiles she looks like a Venetian blind.

My mother-in-law said, 'One day I will dance on your grave.' I said 'I hope you do; I will be buried at sea.'

The mother-in-law came round last week. It was absolutely pouring down. So I opened the door and I saw her there and I said, 'Mother, don't just stand there in the rain. Go home.'

When we were courting, I told my wife: 'I could live in your eyes.' She said: 'You'd be at home; there's a stye in one of them.'

With wives, men hide behind the air of bravado, which is basically a defence mechanism, I think. Clever creatures, women. Very clever.

Families are like fudge mostly sweet with a few nuts.

A man falls in love through his eyes a woman through her ears

I used to sell furniture for a living. The trouble was it was my own.

My wife is a sex object. Every time I ask for sex, she objects.

At the end, the realization is that she had to get to a place in her life where she could drop her guard and make peace with the fact that whether she had a small amount of time, that she had to kind of live it completely through, instead of living by the rules.

It is living and ceasing to live that are imaginary solutions. Existence is elsewhere.

You are not here merely to make a living. You are here in order to enable the world to live more amply, with greater vision, with a finer spirit of hope and achievement. You are here to enrich the world, and you impoverish yourself if you forget the errand.

I love living on that stage. Without that, I'd die.

There is always a type of man who says he loves his fellow men, and expects to make a living at it.

Don't make music for some vast, unseen audience or market or ratings share or even for something as tangible as money. Though it's crucial to make a living, that shouldn't be your inspiration. Do it for yourself.

Death comes not to the living soul, nor age to the loving heart.

The association promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not political faiths; a bilateral loyalty, not commercial or social projects. Yet it is an association for as noble a purpose as any involved in any prior decisions.

Every true prayer is a prayer of the Church; by means of that prayer the Church prays, since it is the Holy Spirit living in the Church, Who in every single soul 'prays in us with unspeakable groanings'.

It seems difficult, sometimes, to believe that there was a time when sentiments now become habitual, sentiments that imply not only the original imperative of conduct, but the original metaphysic of living, were by no means altogether habitual.

Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.

Being a father, well, I don't know if this is a change, but it makes me want to get out of here faster. Get off the clock. Just 'cause the baby is my reason for living, my reason for coming to work.

Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down.

A little simplification would be the first step toward rational living, I think.

I have come to terms with a lot of things, because, when all's said and done, there's really very little one can do about a lot of things. You just accept them. The point is you just have to keep on working and you just have to keep on living.

Each day, and the living of it, has to be a conscious creation in which discipline and order are relieved with some play and pure foolishness.

Countries under foreign command quickly forget their history, their past, their tradition, their national symbols, their way of living, often their own literary language.

Writing is a dog's life, but the only life worth living.