Wherever she goes, Lily Tomlin takes her notebooks. And wherever she goes, she writes the maxims that zing through her act like ricocheting bullets. A sampler:
> If truth is beauty, how come no one has her hair done at the library?
>Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.
>if we listened to it, history would stop repeating itself.
>Ever wonder why someone doesn’t try softer?
>I had a startling revelation the other day: I found out that bread crumbs cost more than bread.
>If the nickname for Lawrence is Larry, why isn’t the nickname for Florence Flarry?
>I worry about kids today. Because of the sexual revolution they’re going to grow up and never know what dirty means.
>Life is like a recessed filter—always just a quarter-inch away.
> Why is it we are always hearing about the tragic cases of too much, too soon? What about the rest of us? Too little, too late.
> There will be sex after death—we just won’t be able to feel it.
>Why is it when we talk to God, we’re said to be praying, but when God talks to us, we’re schizophrenic?
>If you read a lot of books, you’re considered well read. But if you watch a lot of TV, you’re not considered well viewed.
>If love is the answer, could you rephrase the question?
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