We Don't Want To Start A Nuclear

Clouseau: Does Yer Dewg Bite? Inn Keeper: No Clouseau: Nice Doggy (bends Down To Pet A Dachshund - It Snarls And Bites Him) I Thought You Said Yer Dewg Did Not Bite! Inn Keeper: Zat . . . Iz Not My Dog!

Some Forms Of Reality Are So Horrible We Refuse To Face Them, Unless We Are Trapped Into It By Comedy. To Label Any Subject Unsuitable For Comedy Is To Admit Defeat.

Facts - Behind Them Lies The Whole Fabric Of Deductive Truth.

Vocal Music Is An Attempt To Take The Whole Human Being And Project It Into Space. It Is The Ultimate Gesture Of Getting Out Of Yourself. You Take A Part Of You That Is Most Private, Most Personal, Most Inward And You Hurl It Out Into Space - You Project It As Far As You Can. That Gesture Of Opining This Whole Region Of The Body Results In An Enormous Spiritual Release, And Is Felt By Other People With Tremendous Impact.

Relax, I'll Get It. (said To Kato After Clouseau Knocks Him Unconscious)