A Quote by A. P. Herbert

A high-brow is someone who looks at a sausage and thinks of Picasso. — © A. P. Herbert
A high-brow is someone who looks at a sausage and thinks of Picasso.
I am not an intellectual. An intellectual is someone who looks at a sausage and thinks of Picasso, whereas I just say 'pass the mustard'.
I ate him," said the homunculus, biting into his sausage. The kids couldn't hide their looks of horror. He smiled, sausage juice running down his chin. "Oh, don't worry - I cooked him first. I'm not a barbarian.
When someone thinks of the term, 'pretty girl,' they don't typically think of someone who looks like me.
Someone who thinks well of himself is said to have a healthy self-concept and is envied. Someone who thinks well of his country is called a patriot and is applauded. But someone who thinks well of his species is regarded as hopelessly naïve and is dismissed.
Auschwitz begins wherever someone looks at a slaughterhouse and thinks: they’re only animals.
If I ever get looks on the street, which, for the record, is almost never, it's rarely because they think I'm someone they saw in a movie. More often someone sees me and thinks, 'Hey, was that guy my waiter the other night?'
Picasso's always been such a huge influence that I thought when I started the cartoon paintings that I was getting away from Picasso, and even my cartoons of Picasso were done almost to rid myself of his influence.
A German officer visited Picasso in his Paris studio during the Second World War. There he saw Guernica and, shocked at the modernist «chaos» of the painting, asked Picasso: «Did you do this?» Picasso calmly replied: «No, you did this!»
A thicker brow looks more feminine.
I wouldn't take it as a compliment if someone looked at one of my shoes and said, 'Oh, that looks like a comfortable shoe.' There is a heel that is too high to walk in, certainly. But who cares? You don't have to walk in high heels.
I was a high school student like Picasso. I was a little eccentric, but I had high ideals. I wanted to get along well with girl, but when I met them face-to-face, I acted cold toward them. I was always in the art room drawing, I wanted to attract someone's interest. I thought that if I got good at drawing I might be able to establish a connection with the world.
I know I look like a piece of sausage to those lions. A sausage with braids.
I am always jumping into the sausage grinder and deciding, even before I’m half ground, that I don’t want to be a sausage after all.
No theoretician, no writer on art, however interesting he or she might be, could be as interesting as Picasso. A good writer on art may give you an insight to Picasso, but, after all, Picasso was there first.
Pride is all very well, but a sausage is a sausage.
He looks at you like you're someone he's never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. The irony is, you can hardly blame him. I mean, check yourself out. You're a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.
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