A Quote by Paul Lynde

I wish I had the nerve not to tip. — © Paul Lynde
I wish I had the nerve not to tip.
In New York, we tip everyone. We tip doormen, we tip cab drivers, and we tip bartenders at the bar. You'll get quite an evil eye if you don't leave a tip at the bar.
Magnus, I wish I had the nerve to wear the kind of pants you do.
You know, I really wish now I'd had the nerve to become an actor. Because I'd have been Robert Redford, no question.
This is what I think: If you had the nerve to live what you lived, you should have the nerve to write it.
I wish I hadn't worked so hard; I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me; I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings; I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends; and I wish I had let myself be happier. It's an extraordinary list of getting in your own way, isn't it?
Lots of small business men have been contacting me to say they wish they had the nerve to say what I said.
A hidden nerve is what every writer is ultimately about. It's what all writers wish to uncover when writing about themselves in this age of the personal memoir. And yet it's also the first thing every writer learns to sidestep, to disguise, as though this nerve were a deep and shameful secret that needs to be swathed in many sheaths.
I hate it in America where the protocol seems to be you are expected to tip regardless of the quality of service. I like to tip when it's not being demanded of me, and if the service has been good, I tip quite generously.
I wish I were whole. I wish I could have given you youngs, if you'd wanted them and I could conceive them. I wish I could have told you it killed me when you thought I had been with anyone else. I wish I had spent the last year waking up every night and telling you I loved you. I wish I had mated you properly the evening you came back to me from the dead.
Yinzer: DAMN!! I wish I had your balls! Tucker:"I wish you had a breath mint, but I guess we don't always get what we wish for.
Oh my God, there are so many songs I wish I had written. 'Waters of March,' I wish I had written 'My Baby Just Cares for Me,' I wish I had written 'This Will Be Our Year,' I mean, there's millions of them. 'Wouldn't It Be Nice?'
I wish that the act of publishing a book was less of a nerve-wracking experience.
I wish the night would end, I wish the day'd begin, I wish it would rain or snow, or the wind would blow, or the grass would grow, I wish I had yesterday, I wish there were games to play.
Now that I think of it, she looked splendid. I wish I had met her somewhere else. I wish I had appreciated her as she deserved. I wish that everything had gone differently.
I wish I didn't get searched when I come through customs. I wish Christians stop beefin' with Muslims, Wish the poor didn't have to take welfare, Wish America had universal health care... Cause ain't no help here.
But then, his revenge had been more direct. He’d hunted down the ones who’d killed his sister and nephew – those who’d survived his mother’s attack – and he’d made them wish they’d never been born with nerve endings.' (Acheron)
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