Joan Alexandra Molinsky (June 8, 1933 - September 4, 2014), known as Joan Rivers, was an American actress, comedian, writer, producer, and television host noted for her often controversial comedic persona— where she was alternately self-deprecating or sharply acerbic, especially toward celebrities and politicians. (Click here for full Wikipedia article)
A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but a woman makes 19 or 20 mistakes, she's a tramp.
After we made love he took a piece of chalk and made an outline of my body.
At my age an affair of the heart is a bypass.
Don't cook. Don't clean. No man will ever make love to a woman because she waxed the linoleum- 'My God, the floor's immaculate. Lie down, you hot bitch.'
Don't expect praise without envy, until you're dead.
Don't follow any advice, no matter how good, until you feel as deeply in your spirit as you think in your mind that the counsel is wise.
Grandchildren can be so annoying. How many times can you go, ‘And the cow goes moo and the pig goes oink’? It’s like talking to a supermodel.
Half of all marriages end in divorce- and then there are the really unhappy ones.
I spit on education. No man is ever going to put his hand up your dress looking for a library card.
I was smart enough to go through any door that opened.
In California, handicapped parking is for women who are frigid.
Life is tough, darling. Life is hard. And we better laugh at everything; otherwise, we're going down the tube.
Love may be a many-splendored thing, but hate makes the world go round.
My love life is like a piece of Swiss cheese; most of it’s missing, and what’s there stinks.
Never floss with a stranger.
People say that money is not the key to happiness, but I always figured if you have enough money, you can have a key made.
She's so pure, Moses couldn't even part her knees.
The first time I see a jogger smiling, I'll consider it.
The one thing women don't want to find in their stockings on Christmas morning is their husband.
Trust your husband, adore your husband, and get as much as you can in your own name.
We all mourn in our own way. I mourn with a great steak.
Whoever signs your paycheck is the boss- no matter what they tell you.
Why should a woman cook? So her husband can say 'My wife makes a delicious cake' to some hooker?
With plastic surgery, the general anesthetic is like a black-velvety sleep, and that's what death is- without waking up to someone clapping and going, 'Joan, wake up, it's all over and you're looking pretty'.
Yeah, I read history. But it doesn't make you nice. Hitler read history, too.
You know you’re getting old when you buy a sexy sheer nightgown and don’t know anyone who can see through it.
You make the beds, you do the dishes, and six months later you have to start all over again.
(June 8 is also the birthday of Frank Lloyd Wright.)