Laurel And Hardy Quotes

Jeez, we haven’t even slept together and already you don’t trust me.” “I’ve known you all your life not to mention the fact that my idiot sister is in the next room and when you two get together it’s like Laurel and Hardy do Denver.

You can lead a horse to water, but a pencil must be lead.

Well, if she was dumb enough to marry you, she'll believe anything.

All couples start off as Romeo and Juliet and end up as Laurel and Hardy.

Here's another nice mess you've gotten me into.

That's part of our policy, is not to be taken seriously, because I think our opposition, whoever they may be, in all their manifest forms, don't know how to handle humor. You know, and we are humorous, we are, what are they, Laurel and Hardy. That's John and Yoko, and we stand a better chance under that guise, because all the serious people, like Martin Luther King, and Kennedy, and Gandhi, got shot.

Poison and Passion, I have discovered, are as closely connected as Laurel and Hardy.

Did I call them Laurel and Hardy? I meant sodding Romeo and Juliet. This is flirting, á la Gestapo underlings: She: Oh, you are so strong and manly, M'sieur Thibaut. These knots you tie are so secure. He: That is nothing. Look, I pull them so tight you cannot undo them. Try. She: It is true, I cannot! Oh, pull them tighter! He: Chérie, your wish is my command. It is my ankles, not hers, which he is binding so tightly and with such masculine charm. She: I shall have to call you in tomorrow morning as well, to do this task for me. He: You must cross the cords, so, and knot them behind - Me: Squeak! Squeak! She: Shut up and write, ya wee skrikin' Scots piece o' shite. Well, no, she did not use those exact words. But you get the idea.

Een dag niet gelachen is een dag niet geleefd

Deseaba llamar a Sophie. Un día incluso fui hasta la oficina de correos y esperé en la cola de las llamadas al extranjero pero no llegué a llamarla. Ahora las palabras me fallaban constantemente y me entró pánico ante la idea de derrumbarme en el teléfono. ¿Qué podía decirle, después de todo? En lugar de eso, le mandé una postal de Laurel y Hardy. En la parte de atrás escribí: "Los verdadero matrimonios nunca tienen sentido. Mira la pareja del dorso. Prueba que cualquier cosa es posible, ¿no? Quizá deberíamos empezar a ponernos sombreros hongo. Por lo menos, acuérdate de vaciar el armario antes de que yo vuelva. Abrazos a Ben

In every classic comedy duo, from Laurel and Hardy to Abbott and Costello to Martin and Lewis, in order for the exchange to work, the quality of the straight man had to be as dynamic as that of the funny guy. Carl was the best at this. I could use a single question as a springboard to unplanned exposition and tangents that would be as much of a surprise to Carl as they were to the audience. Carl was a gifted partner: While he deferred the punch lines to me, he knew me well enough to follow along and cross paths enough to set me up for more opportunities. He also knew he could throw me a complete curveball and I’d swing for the fences. We were a great ad-libbed high-wire act, and like the best high-wire acts, ours was dependent upon complete trust and respect for each other. Carl once said, “A brilliant mind in panic is a wonderful thing to behold.

What happened was that when they brought me in this morning, poor Fräulein Engel was sitting at the table with her back to the door, busily numbering my countless recipe cards, and I frightened the living daylights out of her by braying in a deep, stentorian voice of command and discipline, ‘Achtung, Anna Engel! Heil Hitler!’ She catapulted to her feet and threw herself into a salute that must have nearly dislocated her shoulder. I’ve never seen her look so white around the gills. She recovered almost immediately and smacked me so hard she knocked me over. When Thibaut picked me up, she smacked me again just for the sheer hell of it. Wow wow wow is my jaw sore. I suppose they are not planning another phoney interview. I can never decide if it is worth it. It was a truly hilarious moment, but all I seem to have achieved this time is a totally unexpected collusion between Engel and Thibaut. Did I call them Laurel and Hardy? I meant sodding Romeo and Juliet. This is flirting, à la Gestapo underlings: She: Oh, you are so strong and manly, M’sieur Thibaut. Those knots you tie are so secure. He: That is nothing. Look, I pull them so tight you cannot undo them. Try. She: It is true, I cannot! Oh, pull them tighter! He: Chérie, your wish is my command. It is my ankles, not hers, which he is binding so tightly and with such masculine charm. She: I shall have to call you in tomorrow morning as well, to do this task for me. He: You must cross the cords, so, and knot them behind – Me: Squeak! Squeak! She: Shut up and write, ya wee skrikin’ Scots piece o’ shite. Well, no, she did not use those exact words. But you get the idea.

Guedel had set out to be a writer but had been frustrated by rejections. He had worked for Hal Roach on some of the Laurel and Hardy and Little Rascals film shorts, and had gravitated into radio. Linkletter, born in Canada July 17, 1912, had been raised by adoptive parents after being given up by his birth family, whose name was Kelley. He kept the name of his new family, Linkletter, throughout his professional life. When the Linkletters moved to California, the father became an evangelist, and Linkletter’s first exposure to crowds and audiences came in those religious gatherings. In college, his ability to talk was his greatest asset: it was said that he could discuss any topic at any

Cop: Say you, where were you on the night of November the 15th? Stan: November the 15th? Cop: Yes. Stan: The day before Christmas? Cop: No, the day after Christmas. November the 15th. Stan: November? Septober, Octember, Nowonder...fif... Cop: Are you tryin' to kid me? Say you, where were you on the night of November the 15th? Ollie: I was with him.

The thing about Laurel and Hardy movies that you can't get from the chopped-up versions on television is how beautiful they are. Things happen exactly at the moment they have to happen. They don't happen a second too soon or too late. You can even predict what's going to happen—and it does happen—and it surprises you anyway. It doesn't surprise you because it happened, but because it happened so perfectly.

days. After all, the secret of slapstick resides in incongruity, and what could be more incongruous than these dead-panned stumble-bums…turned loose amid the gray towers and ivy-covered walls of peaceful Oxford?  What you cannot expect is a story. But Laurel and Hardy have been managing for so long to get by without one of those that its absence is imperceptible. The idea is to laugh, not to think. You'll get the idea, all right.

I prodded him in the chest with a finger and said, “Look here, smart mouth, I’m getting pretty sick of you already. If you know what’s best for you, keep your trap shut and do as I tell you. I still haven’t forgotten how you pushed my friend into that corpse. So unless you want to end up like that body in the underpass, do yourself a favour and keep out of my face, okay?” “Whatever you say, boss. You’re the boss, boss,” Drake said. “See, there you go again!” I snapped at him. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, boss,” Drake said. “You even say boss like a wise arse,” I shot back at him. “I don’t know what you mean b-” Drake started again. “Did I say you had to call me boss?” “It’s just that I thought…” “Don’t think!” I barked. “Just do as I say and we’ll get along just fine.” “Whatever you say,” Drake said. I glanced at Madison and she was smiling. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “Nothing,” she smiled back. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realise that I was some sort of freaking comedian. Let’s see if you think it’s so funny when another one of those dead kids shows up. Jesus, no wonder you amateurs haven’t caught this piece of scum yet – you’re probably all too busy sitting round cracking jokes and taking the piss to do any real police work.” “You are funny though,” she half-laughed. “It’s just that when you get angry, your jaw goes all tense and your nostrils flare out at the sides.” “Oh yeah, how very amusing,” I remarked. “I think you two clowns are funny – not ha-ha funny – but fucked-in-the-head funny! Now, if you two have quite finished doing your Laurel and Hardy impersonations, we’ve got a killer to catch!

Stanley Laurel throws a pie which hits Oliver Hardy in the face. In the physicist's model or reality-tunnel (the two overlap in this case) the best description of what has happened is Newton's F equals ma (Force equals mass times acceleration). In the anthropological reality-tunnel, what has happened is a continuation of the Feast of Fools or Saturnalia or the tradition of the royal fool who is immune from the tabu against rebellion in comic form. To some Freudians, the best reality-tunnel is that the Son's rage against the Father is being expressed symbolically. To some Marxists, it is the worker's rage against the boss. Etc.

In every classic comedy duo, from Laurel and Hardy to Abbott and Costello to Martin and Lewis, in order for the exchange to work, the quality of the straight man had to be as dynamic as that of the funny guy. Carl was the best at this. I

If anyone looks solemn at my funeral, I'll never speak to them again.

No-one is dumber than a dumb man who thinks he's smart.

Remember when I used to be dumb? Well I'm better now. [Stan Laurel - 'Pack Up Your Troubles."]

. I couldn’t work out what message she was delivering and it left me feeling confused. I had the same sensation when I saw my first Laurel and Hardy movie. The two characters were being chased by someone in a car up a hill and at the top there was a sheer cliff—it was clear to me that they were going to die. I was weeping, yet everyone else was laughing. I couldn’t understand why they thought it was so funny.

Oliver and Stanley – yes, Gran is a huge Laurel and Hardy fan.