“Those hot pants of hers were so damned tight, I could hardly breathe.” — Benny Hill Quote

Those hot pants of hers were so damned tight, I could hardly breathe.

I'm single. I don't have a family. I certainly don't have to work. I don't want to be the richest man in the cemetery.

Just because nobody complains doesn't mean all parachutes are perfect.

I changed it to Leslie Hill, only that seemed more like a cocktail pianist. Eventually, being an admirer of Jack Benny, I took his name.

The odds against there being a bomb on a plane are a million to one, and against two bombs a million times a million to one. Next time you fly, cut the odds and take a bomb.

In fiction, plenty do the job of conveying information, rousing suspense, painting characters, enabling them to speak. But only certain sentences breathe and shift about, like live matter in soil.

When you're telling taut, tight storytelling that has any kind of built-in plot twist elements, you tend to want to stack everything up on top of itself as opposed to letting things breathe and be languid in terms of the passage of time.

As long as I can wear something that's not too tight, I can move in it, it's not too thick, and I can breathe, it's great.

You've got to find ways to breathe while you're dancing so that when it comes time for you to stop and sing again, you have it.