"My little chickadee . . . "

Cocktail, anyone?

As he lay dying, W.C. Fields admitted, “I would like to have tried it without alcohol.”

Earlier in life he had been scolded for his drinking by a nosy old biddy-body who warned him, “You’re going to drown in a vat of cheap whisky.”

To which the inimitable Fields replied, “Ah, Death, where is thy sting?”