Andy Griffith Quotes

Baby, Andy once said that beauty is a sign of intelligence.' She turns slowly to look at me. 'Who, Victor? Who? Andy who?' She coughs, blowing her nose. 'Andy Kaufman? Andy Griffith? Who in the hell told you this? Andy Rooney?' 'Warhol,' I say softly, hurt. 'Baby...

Well, do a good day's work and act like somebody.

THE 100 PERCENT TOTALLY DANGER-PROOF FUTURE IS AMAZING!’ we shout. Terry runs into the wall again. I jump back into the shark’s mouth.

No detective ever solved a mystery without the help of a hot jam doughnut.

Laughter is the best medicine.

The Los Angeles parade would begin in Griffith Park, where a large crowd would assemble and the speeches would be given. Every politician of consequence would be there. There was no way they would miss a chance to publicly praise the troops and honor those who had lost their lives in service. Some of the tributes would be sincere and heartfelt, and some less so. But participating in the event, vowing undying support for the U.S. military, was an absolute must to maintain political viability. It was okay to vote to cut funds for veterans' healthcare, but don't dare miss a chance to jump on the Memorial Day bandwagon.

Sorry, but I'd rather sit home eating Vienna sausage straight from the can watching Andy Griffith reruns than be forced to dine with that Oompa-Loompa!

He felt out of place in Prescott City, like a Hell’s Angel who had wandered onto the Andy Griffith show.

One of the radio stations sometimes played the theme to the Andy Griffith Show...The song was a tiny, quiet piece of America carved out of the rest. No fire hoses, no need for the National Guard.

we wanted to pay homage to TV producer-director-actor Sheldon Leonard [the Emmy-winning producer and director of shows like The Danny Thomas Show, The Andy Griffith Show, The Dick Van Dyke Show, and more], so that’s where Sheldon and Leonard came from.

A bunch of monkeys were riding the marshmallow machine straight at us and firing marshmallows at our heads.

crustaceans?

Zack. The bumcatcher winced as he spoke. ‘Listen to me, Zack,’ he said. ‘Your bum

two guinea pigs,

PLAINVILLE WAS A QUAINT picturesque town. Northern California’s version of Andy Griffith’s Mayberry. Bucolic enough to provide cinematic contrast for any low-budget stalk-and-slash film. Juxtaposition played just as important a role in still photography as it did in cinematography. Maybe that’s why Natalie Jones had picked Plainville for her final descent into darkness. The climactic scene in a comedic tragedy. Cast of one. Audience of one. Curtain closed.

Maybe nostalgia is itself the problem. A Democrat I met in Macon during a conversation we had about the local enthusiasm for Trump told me that “people want to go back to Mayberry”, the setting of the beloved old Andy Griffith Show. (As it happens, the actual model for Mayberry, Mount Airy, a bedraggled town in North Carolina, has gone all in on the Trump revolution, as the Washington Post recently reported.) Maybe it’s also true, as my liberal friends believe, that what people in this part of the country secretly long to go back to are the days when the Klan was riding high or when Quantrill was terrorizing the people of neighboring Kansas, or when Dred Scott was losing his famous court case. For sure, there is a streak of that ugly sentiment in the Trump phenomenon. But I want to suggest something different: that the nostalgic urge does not necessarily have to be a reactionary one. There is nothing un-progressive about wanting your town to thrive, about recognizing that it isn’t thriving today, about figuring out that the mid-century, liberal way worked better. For me, at least, that is how nostalgia unfolds. When I drive around this part of the country, I always do so with a WPA guidebook in hand, the better to help me locate the architectural achievements of the Roosevelt years. I used to patronize a list of restaurants supposedly favored by Harry Truman (they are slowly disappearing). And these days, as I pass Trump sign after Trump sign, I wonder what has made so many of Truman’s people cast their lot with this blustering would-be caudillo. Maybe what I’m pining for is a liberal Magic Kingdom, a non-racist midwest where things function again. For a countryside dotted with small towns where the business district has reasonable job-creating businesses in it, taverns too. For a state where the giant chain stores haven’t succeeded in putting everyone out of business. For an economy where workers can form unions and buy new cars every couple of years, where farmers enjoy the protection of the laws, and where corporate management has not been permitted to use every trick available to them to drive down wages and play desperate cities off one against the other. Maybe it’s just an impossible utopia, a shimmering Mayberry dream. But somehow I don’t think so.

number 2s.

Dirty nappies.

magnifying glass. “Thanks,” says Terry. “I needed that.” “Don’t mention it,” I say. “That’s what friends are for. Come on! To the flying fried-egg car!” We jump in and pull the yolk down tightly over the top of us. I press EXTRA SIZZLE on the control panel … and we take off through the concealed flying fried-egg car hatch in the top of the detective agency. We fly through Mr. Big Nose’s window and park next to his bookshelf. Terry takes out the two biggest magnifying glasses and starts looking

He was expecting the Special Victim's Unit, but instead found himself in the Mayberry Police Department. All they needed now was an ignorant child to learn the lesson Sheriff Taylor needed to learn by the end of the episode and they could remake 'The Andy Griffith Show'.+ a

Don’t mention it,” I say. “That’s what friends are for. Come on! To the flying fried-egg car!

™' (Just Doomed!) David Worthy Category: Character Appears in: Schooling Around series David Worthy is a class captain of 5B at Northwest Southeast Central School (David shares the captaincy with Fiona McBrain). David is very fond of rules and is never happier than when quoting from the school handbook. Appearances Treasure Fever! (2008) Pencil of Doom! (2008) Mascot Madness! (2009) Robot Riot! (2009) The Day My Bum Went Psycho Category: Novel Series: The Bum trilogy Author: Andy Griffiths Illustrator: Terry Denton Publisher: Pan Macmillan Year of publication: 2001

What demands an answer but asks no question? A A telephone.

You’re going to come with

If you've ever watched Andy Griffith, you'll find Geraldine vaguely familiar. She reminds everybody of Aunt Bee. Her size, her sort of scatterbrained reasoning, her sweet manner, and above all, her ability to cook a meal you found it hard to walk away from, all fit that image.

After assembly

driftfire.

SOS’.

bravo, bravo!’ says Terry. ‘That was il magnifico de stupendio!’ ‘Thank you,’ says Mr Big Nose, taking a big bow.

teeth. But the pirate just smiled,

spleen,

OPEN THE TREEHOUSE DOOR OR ELSE!

better

climb

going

Okay,” I said, “then I’m sorry to inform you that I’m going to have to whack you over the head with this giant banana.” “Not if I can whack you first!” said Terry, snatching the banana from my hands and whacking me over the head with it. That’s when everything went black.

pictures.

Fine,

wiping

As you can see, we’ve been doing this for quite a while now.

he says. ‘We sure are,’ I say. ‘We just saved everybody from all the weather,’ says Terry. ‘We’re heroes!’ ‘Yes, I know,’ says the man. ‘I saw you on TV—which is why I’m here. My name is Mr Bunkoff. I’m a school truancy officer. I thought I knew all the eligible school-age students in the forest, but I can’t seem to find any record of you three on the school rolls.

this?’ ‘It would make a great head for our scarecrow,’ says Terry. ‘I didn’t know you had a scarecrow,’ says Jill. ‘We don’t,’ says Terry, ‘but if we did this head would be perfect!’ ‘No way,’ I say. ‘I don’t want to see that man’s head ever again. I hated him.’ ‘Yeah,’ says Jill, ‘so did I.’ ‘Oh, did you know him, too?’ says Terry. ‘Yes! Don’t you remember? I was on board his ship when you and Andy were captured. I’ll never forget my first sight of you, Terry! You looked like you were wearing a nappy!’ ‘It wasn’t a nappy,’ says Terry. ‘I was wearing emergency self-inflating underpants. They get a bit baggy when they deflate.’ ‘And Andy was so scared he was crying,’ says Jill. ‘I was not crying,’ I say. ‘It was just spray from

axle-grease, grass, toothpaste, fish-milkshake and raw horseflesh.

Stenchgator, the Great Unwiped Bum... was listed in the Bumper Book of Bums as the stinkiest bum in the world. Most bums only registered one or two points on the Rectum scale, but Stenchgator came in at a nose-bruising 9.8 points.

She wasn’t

Everything I know about life, I learned from The Andy Griffith Show.

shoelace caught in an escalator.

He wondered if he'd be better off staying at the bum shelter with his false bum and forgetting about his real bum. But he couldn't. His bum was trying to take over the world.

chocolate, strawberry, vanilla and honeycomb.

The Andy Griffith Show was anachronistic. The denizens of Mayberry wore clothing of uncertain vintage and hair of indeterminate style and drove cars of unspecified age. Scant mention was made of current affairs or changing times. Telephone calls were placed through a human operator, and no one seemed to own a television set.

If you’re like most of our readers, you’re probably wondering where we get all the ideas for our books from. Well, sometimes we think them up. Other times they are based on stuff that actually happens. Like this book, for instance. It all started one morning when I got up and went down to get some breakfast.

ANTS!

otherwise

water!’ says

White Christian America had its golden age in the 1950s, after the hardships and victories of World War Ii and before the cultural upheavals of the 1960s. June Cleaver was its mother, Andy Griffith was its sheriff, Norman Rockwell was its artist. and Billy Graham and Norman Vincent Peale were its ministers.

going to

World War II sea mines,

them. The only trouble is that it could take a while because I’m actually feeling pretty healthy. I hear

and

remind

tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime…

far.” “Not as far as you’re going,” replies the puddle. “Now

send out the secret puddle-fighting call and get the old team back together!

You’ll have to make me sneeze to get

by force.” “You’ll have to catch us first,” I say, slamming the door shut. “OPEN UP!” Mr. Slackoff shouts angrily from the

halves

Were Trump born a woman he would never even have come close to earning the respect even of the idiots who respect him. The world rewards morons if the damage to their penis does not outweigh the damage to their brains.

Well, yeah,” says Terry, “they are, but it was only designed for one person.

If life gets tough, what do you have that you can always count on? A Your fingers. ‘But we have to write this book,’ says Terry.

stories.)

I hate you, Andy,’ says Jen. ‘I really HATE you. I REALLY, REALLY HATE YOU!’ ‘Jen!’ says Mum, coming into the room with a cup of tea in one hand and a crossword puzzle book in the other. ‘What an awful thing to say to your brother! Apologise to him this instant!’ ‘But, Mum …’ says Jen. ‘No buts,’ says Mum. ‘There’s no excuse for speaking like that. Apologise right now!

Lots

Barky!

I turn it off. I try to relax. I take a deep breath. But I can’t get that scene out of my mind where that poor kid who is sitting up late all by himself watching a horror movie suddenly has a group of blood-sucking axe-wielding freaks

Case

About Treehouse Tales WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS BOOK. IT CONTAINS THIRTEEN OF THE SILLIEST TALES THE TREEHOUSE TEAM HAVE EVER TOLD. TALES SO SILLY THEY COULD BREAK YOUR BRAIN*. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PUT IT DOWN. PUT IT DOWN NOW. BY ORDER OF THE STORY POLICE. *Unless you don’t have one, in which case you’ll be fine so please disregard this warning.

CHEESECAKE!

POOP POOP!

a screaming caterpillar that just screams and screams and when you ask it to stop it just keeps screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and scream—

screaming caterpillar that just screams and screams and when you ask it to stop it just keeps screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming and scream—

Row, row, row your boat, Gently down the stream, Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream! Row, row, row your boat, Gently down the stream. If you see a crocodile, Give it some ice cream! Row, row, row your boat, Row and never stop. If you’re getting hungry, Then suck a lollipop! Row, row, row your boat, Gently on the lake. Don’t forget to bring along A really big—

TRACTOR TIRE!

FRED THE GHOSTLY GHOST

but how are you going to get the rocks into her pack without her seeing?’ ‘I’m not going to put the rocks in her pack,’ I say. ‘You are.’ ‘Me?’ says Danny. ‘What

Edward

Me neither,

feel free to watch! Just try not to sneeze—we don’t want any more germs getting into these poor

Terry shrugged. “Nah, not really,” he said. “Sea-monkeys aren’t that interesting after all.” “Never mind,” I said. “Let’s get back to work.” Soon we were back at our table, about to start work on the next story, when we heard a loud crash.

And I’m even sorrier than Andy,” says Terry.

nincompoops!

Yes it is,” says the monster.

cats! A whole bunch of them...13 to be exact, with Silky in the lead! They were flying in formation, coming in low and fast,

Hey, I know,’ says Terry. ‘Why don’t

a haunted house,

desk.

ABOVE: An artist’s impression of what it would look like if Mr Big Nose’s nose exploded.

play.

Excuse me, Pinchy,” I say quickly (before he can start a third verse), “but isn’t everything in the Two-Dollar Shop always only two dollars?

let

Mount Everest!