Underwear Quotes

I spent two weeks prancing around a studio in Queens in my underwear with nine other guys. They were long days. But what the hell, it was Calvin Klein.

I love wearing men's clothing and underwear.

I don't always wear underwear. When I'm in the heat, especially, I can't wear it. Like, if I'm wearing a flower dress, why do I have to wear underwear?

I was married for 30 years. Isn't that enough? I've had my share of dirty underwear on the floor.

I've had lots of kids come up and ask for my autograph, I've had a grandmother stop me and ask me if I know a good place to buy underwear.

I'm superstitious... but not like wear the same underwear for two weeks superstitious.

I have had fans make me the big picture collages of the photo books; I have had fans send me birthday cakes... sing to me on my voicemail. I have had fans flash me. I have had older fans give me their bras and underwear onstage.

You can tell a lot about a person from his underwear.

In my hand luggage I always have my camera, iPod, make-up bag, tooth brush, cleansing products, clean underwear, socks and a change of clothes in case anything goes missing at the other end - and of course my passport.

I'm dealing with fools and trolls and soft targets. It's just strafing runs in my underwear before my first cup of coffee. I don't have time for these clowns.

These days, you have the option of staying home, blogging in your underwear, and not having your words mangled. I think I like the direction things are headed.

In a way it was like washing your laundry in public and, yep, there you go, you've seen my underwear. And now I feel like there's nothing left, you've seen it all and I can get on.

My mother was always in those films where it's the end of the world and a meteor's about to hit London; there's only six people left, and one of them's in purple underwear. That was always my mother, running from this meteor in purple underwear and spraining her ankle.

My mother was right: When you've got nothing left, all you can do is get into silk underwear and start reading Proust.

I never thought I'd be in a position where people would be talking about my sexuality and saying how good I look in underwear.

Sexual underwear is tacky.

When every piece of furniture and your underwear are taken by the bank, when you lose your house in Florida, in New York, in Amsterdam and L.A., when your wife is dying and your son abandons you, you don't feel very good.

I don't believe in the after life, although I am bringing a change of underwear.

On a good night, I get underwear, bras, and hotel-room keys thrown onstage... You start to think that you're Tom Jones.

No one has ever bought me underwear, and I'm a little bummed about that. Maybe it's not such a big deal any more.

He got up and there were both of us in our underwear and this kid goes through the whole thing again, all the closets, the bathroom, everything else and then he left.

I have loads of underwear, but only wear the bras because I never wear knickers.

In department stores, so much kitchen equipment is bought indiscriminately by people who just come in for men's underwear.

Domesticity has to mean nesting. Otherwise, six months go by, and you don't know where your underwear is.

So It's not like I go from being this disciplined person who has to get up and go to work to now I just lay around all day in my underwear eating Cheerios. I have this structure. I still have to do this and the difference is I'm doing this for me and my company.

This morning when I put on my underwear I could hear the fruit-of-the-loom guys laughing at me.

From the cradle to the coffin underwear comes first.

My deal was that they would use a full-length picture of me in my underwear and a full-length picture of me all done up, and they would write about how long it took and how much it cost, because that was the whole point. It was very liberating.

I once had dinner with Madonna and I wasn't nervous but within about a minute I found myself talking about underwear.

I don't like silk underwear. They don't do the job, you know?