My wife is one of the most extroverted people I know. She could out-talk Oprah and Joyce Meyer simultaneously.
Crankiness is at the essence of all comedy. My wife and I were discussing the different types of cranky. There's entertaining cranky, annoying cranky, angry cranky.
I am a quick study - I can memorize a script in an hour - but I can't remember a name three seconds. I've even forgotten my wife's name on occasion.
The first moment I saw my wife breastfeed our daughter minutes after birth, I was hit with a thunderbolt of understanding and awe for the miracle of it all, and I still feel that way.
I told them if were going to do it were going to do it right, I'm not leaving 'til it's done. My wife, child and I slept in the studio. We cut these raw.
I always tell my wife, 'If you're ever looking for something to put on my gravestone, put down, 'He was an honest man, and he never held a grudge.'
My wife thinks I have an obsession with social class. So I guess I have an obsession with social class. It probably stems from feeling like an outcast.
I know a baseball star who wouldn't report the theft of his wife's credit cards because the thief spends less than she does.
I used to hang out with Salvador Dali a lot. He was such a nice man. I really liked his wife Gala, too. People say that she was tricky, but she was never difficult with me.
I got into guitar because no parent will buy their eight-year-old kid drums unless they're divorced and trying to get back at their wife. You know what I mean?
Library-denigrators, pay heed: suggesting that the Internet is a viable substitute for libraries is like saying porn could replace your wife.
You know you've built a product that can hit the mainstream when your wife, your father, and your mother-in-law can get involved.
In the Woodstock movie, you see Justin, my son, who is now a filmmaker, being carried off by my wife at the time to the helicopter. He's just this little bundle of joy in her arms. And it's 1969.
I was silver-white by the time I was 35, but having grey hair makes me look washed out. My wife and son have both said that grey hair doesn't suit me because I have a boyish face.
Madam your wife and I didn't hit it off the only time I ever saw her. I won't say she was silly, but I think one of us was silly, and it wasn't me.
Thinking fascinates me, and I probably spend too much time in my mind. My wife says that my perfect world is to be in the Suburban driving, with her next to me and the boys in the back seat and complete silence for two thousand miles.
My wife hates the beard. When we dated, I would grow it out during duck season. She said she could handle anything for three months - but now I have it all the time.
As a mother I think you often get so caught up in trying to take care of everyone else that you forget to take care of yourself. But I'm a much better wife and mother when I take the time to take care of myself.
And then Dick called and said, I'm going to do a special called Dick Van Dyke and the other woman, that would be you, because every time I try to check into a hotel with my wife, they look at me as though I'm cheating on Laura.
Even after I got my divorce, the ink wasn't even dry on the paper, and I said, 'Ooh, the next time I become a wife, I got this thing down pat!' I always believed that there was someone built for me.
The last time I spoke with Robert was back in May. When his wife was murdered, I talked to several radio stations in defense of him because I know how Bobby Blake really is, and as far as I'm concerned, there's no murder in his heart.
