Middle age is when you've met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else. . . .

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. "Let's Not Climb the Washington Monument Tonight," Versus (1949).)

No matter how deep and dark your pit, how dank your shroud,
Their heads are heroically unbloody and unbowed.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. Look for the Silver Lining, Happy Days (1933). On "The cheery souls who drop around after every catastrophe and think they are taking the curse off/By telling you about somebody who is even worse off.")

And one of his partners asked "Has he vertigo?" and the other glanced out and down and said "Oh no, only about ten feet more."

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. "Mr. Artesian's Conscientiousness," The Face Is Familiar (1940).)

Passivity can be a provoking modus operandi;
Consider the Empire and Gandhi.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. I Never Even Suggested It (l. 13-14). . . Little Treasury of American Poetry, A. Oscar Williams, ed. (1948) Charles Scribner's Sons.)

It is my duty, gentlemen, to inform you that women are dictators
all, and I recommend to you this moral:
In real life it takes only one to make a quarrel.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. I Never Even Suggested It (l. 17-18). . . Little Treasury of American Poetry, A. Oscar Williams, ed. (1948) Charles Scribner's Sons.)

Here is a pen and here is a pencil,
Here's a typewriter, here's a stencil,
Here is a list of today's appointments,
And all the flies in all the ointments,
The daily woes that a man endures?
Take them, George, they're yours!

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. Let George Do It, If You Can Find Him, The Primrose Path (1935).)

If you are really Master of your Fate,
It shouldn't make any difference to you whether Cleopatra or the Bearded Lady is your mate.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. The Anatomy of Happiness, I'm a Stranger Here Myself (1938).)

The turtle lives 'twixt plated decks
Which practically conceal its sex.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. The Turtle (l. 1-2). . . Oxford Book of American Light Verse, The. William Harmon, ed. (1979) Oxford University Press.)

I don't mind their having a lot of money, and I don't care how they employ it,
But I do think that they damn well ought to admit they enjoy it.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. The Terrible People, Happy Days (1933).)

But that wasn't fancy enough for Lord Byron, oh dear me no, he had to invent a lot of figures of speech and then interpolate them,
With the result that whenever you mention Old Testament soldiers to
people they say Oh yes, they're the ones that a lot of wolves dressed up in gold and purple ate them.

(Ogden Nash (1902-1971), U.S. poet. Very like a Whale (l. 19-20). . . Treasury of Great Poems, English and American, A. Louis Untermeyer, ed. (Rev. and enl. Ed., 1955) Simon and Schuster.)