Erma Bombeck Quotes
Most popular Erma Bombeck Quotes
Guilt: the gift that keeps on giving.
Never go to a doctor whose office plants have died.
If Life is a Bowl of Cherries, What Am I Doing in the Pits?
A child develops individuality long before he develops taste.
It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else.
Don't confuse fame with success. Madonna is one; Helen Keller is the other.
Don't confuse fame with success. One is Madonna; the other is Helen Keller.
If a man watches three football games in a row, he should be declared legally dead.
The only reason I would take up jogging is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.
Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery.
I was too old for a paper route, too young for Social Security and too tired for an affair.
A man shopping with his wife is like a dog line-dancing. He can do it, but he doesn't enjoy it.
I take a very practical view of raising children. I put a sign in each of their rooms: Checkout Time is 18 years.
You become about as exciting as your food blender. The kids come in, look you in the eye, and ask if anybody's home.
Humor is a spontaneous, wonderful bit of an outburst that just comes. It's unbridled, it's unplanned, it's full of surprises.
As a child, my number one best friend was the librarian in my grade school. I actually believed all those books belonged to her.
It seemed rather incongruous that in a society of supersophisticated communication, we often suffer from a shortage of listeners.
Families aren't easy to join. They're like an exclusive country club where membership makes impossible demands and the dues for an outsider are exorbitant.
When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me'.
Friends are "annuals" that need seasonal nurturing to bear blossoms. Family is a "perennial" that comes up year after year, enduring the droughts of absence and neglect.
A child develops individuality long before he develops taste. I have seen my kid straggle into the kitchen in the morning with the outfits that need only one accessory: an empty gin bottle.
Those magazine dieting stories always have the testimonial of a woman who wore a dress that could slip over New Jersey in one photo and thirty days later looked like a well-dressed thermometer.
Mothers are not the nameless, faceless stereotypes who appear once a year on a greeting card with their virtues set to prose, but women who have been dealt a hand for life and play each card one at a time the best way they know how.
I will never understand children. I never pretended to. I meet mothers all the time who make resolutions to themselves. 'I'm going to ... go out of my way to show them I am interested in them and what they do. I am going to understand my children.' These women end up making rag rugs, using blunt scissors.
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.
