A Quote by Bob Monkhouse

The last time I was in Spain I got through six Jeffrey Archer novels. I must remember to take enough toilet paper next time. — © Bob Monkhouse
The last time I was in Spain I got through six Jeffrey Archer novels. I must remember to take enough toilet paper next time.
One of the most jolting days of adulthood comes the first time you run out of toilet paper. Toilet paper, up until this point, always just existed. And now it's a finite resource, constantly in danger of extinction, that must be carefully tracked and monitored, like pandas?
Leaders win through logistics. Vision, sure. Strategy, yes. But when you go to war, you need to have both toilet paper and bullets at the right place at the right time. In other words, you must win through superior logistics.
Kids have little computer bodies with disks that store information. They remember who had to do the dishes the last time you had spaghetti, who lost the knob off the TV set six years ago, who got punished for teasing the dog when he wasn't teasing the dog and who had to wear girls boots the last time it snowed.
I was given some designer colors for ink pens a long time ago and I haven't used them, and I have some handmade paper, and I just have the desire to drip on wet paper. It reminds me of when I was seven years old and had my tonsils out, and one of the first artworks I made was on toilet paper with a colored pencil; it was sort of half paint and half colored pencil. But I got very involved with color and absorption and I think, you know, 78 is a good time to go back to the beginning.
You can't put toilet paper in the toilet [in the space ship], so there's a separate vacuum can in front of you on the wall and when you're done, you put the toilet paper in there and seal that up.
After the first time I got traded - I was in the bullpen warming up for a game in Double A, and I got called back in and got traded - that was probably the, like, most crazy it could be. And once I got traded, the next time it got a little easier, and I got traded the next time - it's just part of it.
House Republicans are flimsier than toilet paper, except toilet paper actually has use. They're so pathetic.
I never saw the light of day at Bouley. I remember I would bring home a roll of toilet paper a week because we got paid so little, if at all.
Music has become really important now. It's helped me to open up more and take a chance on loving people. Music is a good reason to care. It's just a vehicle though. It's a way to try and give somebody something that you feel. If trying the best I can isn't good enough, I'll just have to try harder next time...it's all I can do. If I do the best I can, then at least I did the best I could in this life The way I like to look at it is....if that's the last time /I ever got to play, I'd better give it everything I've got.
We are the last remaining country to allow ourselves two breaks in the season. You just have to look at England, Italy and Spain, they play right through the season. We on the other hand take six weeks off in the winter until the end of January, and that is a luxury.
The bestseller charts, a sure indicator of public taste, tell us with relentless frequency that Marian Keyes or Jeffrey Archer is a better author, by some dizzying six-figure sum, both in numbers of copies and money, than, say, J. M. Coetzee or Patrick White. Are they right?
The next chamber is full of songbirds, if I remember right. Their music is like turtleweed. It will put you to sleep if you listen to it. They sleep most of the time, so the best thing is to pass through without waking them up. If they do awaken, then you must sing loud enough to drown out their music." "Great," Han said. "Whose idea was that?" "It seemed like a good idea at the time," Crow said. "I was an excellent singer.
By the way, six A.M.? Not a real great time for me; you know, I'm a comic. I get off work at two. Six A.M., I'm a little grumpy. Six A.M., I'm a little P.O.ed. Six A.M., I'm like a vampire with a paper route.
The earliest memories I have from my childhood are of my mum getting ready to go on stage. I must have been about five and I would watch her vomiting backstage on opening night, and then the next minute she became Isabella, the Queen of Spain. At the time I remember thinking, 'What kind of schizophrenic job is this?' Now it all makes sense.
Time kept on and on like the cheapest toilet paper.
If my time on earth were through and she must face the world without me, is the love I gave her in the past gonna be enough to last?
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