Woody Allen’s poignant memory of Rockaway Beach in the 1940s. Through 0:36, a beautiful blend of word, image, and music (Kurt Weill’s “September Song”).

Tyson: “Do you know who the fuck I am? I’m the heavyweight champion of the world.” Ayer stood his ground. “And I am the former Wykeham Professor of Logic…”

I think I remember this moorland,
The tower on the tip of the tor;
I feel in the distance another existence:
I think I have been here before…

A shelf that doubles as a hidden drawer openable with magnetic keys.

Innovatively adds two chewy edges to every brownie.

“When he was introduced to a blind French lady, the servant happening to stretch out her mistress’s hand to lay hold of the historian’s cheek, she thought, upon feeling its rounded contour, that some trick was being played upon her with the sitting part of a child, and exclaimed, ‘Fi donc!’ [‘Fie for shame!’]”

Matt Foley, overcaffeinated motivational speaker “35 years old, eating a steady diet of government cheese, thrice divorced, and living in a van down by the river…”

“What a glorious garden of wonders this would be for anyone who was lucky enough to be unable to read.”

“How little can we venture to exult in any intellectual powers, or literary attainments, when we consider the condition of poor Collins! I knew him a few years ago, full of hopes and full of projects, versed in many languages, high in fancy, and strong in retention. This busy and forcible mind is now under the government of those who lately would not have been able to comprehend the least and most narrow of its designs.”

“So very vexatious was this annoyance, and so great an impatience did it arouse in the sufferers, that it hastened, if it did not aid, in inducing them to promptly affix their signatures to the great document which gave birth to an empire republic.”

Terrific version of the Cole Porter standard with Count Basie and his orchestra; Quincy Jones arranged and conducted. Recorded in the Copa Room at Las Vegas’s Sands Hotel and Casino in 1966 and released on Sinatra at the Sands.

Well, can't you hear us yelling “rag and bone”?
Bring out your junk and we’ll give it a home
A broken trumpet or a telephone
Ah come on, ah come on, ah come on
C'mon and give it to me.

Great comedic timing from the 2007 album Icky Thump.

“I told her (and I meant it too) to go back to that hotel porter and always to take his advice.”

“The whole point of straws, I had thought, was that you did not have to set down the slice of pizza to suck a dose of Coke while reading a paperback. I soon found, as many have, that there was a way to drink no-handed with these new floating straws…”

Rousing version of Hughie Cannon tune that was a #1 hit for Arthur Collins in 1902.

“I went to a baker I knew, who made the bread rolls that are on the table. The baker used to call them Picasso’s hands. When people pointed out that they had only four fingers he’d say, ‘Of course, that’s why they’re called Picasso’s hands.'”

“Svatba” (“The Wedding Procession”), from the 1975 album Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares.

The author of Brideshead Revisited robs his kids of “the most delicious taste in the world.”

“It appears to me,” said Don Quixote, “that translating from one language into another is like gazing at a Flemish tapestry with the wrong side out…”