Cole Porter
Cole Porter
Cole Albert Porterwas an American composer and songwriter. Born to a wealthy family in Indiana, he defied the wishes of his domineering grandfather and took up music as a profession. Classically trained, he was drawn towards musical theatre. After a slow start, he began to achieve success in the 1920s, and by the 1930s he was one of the major songwriters for the Broadway musical stage. Unlike many successful Broadway composers, Porter wrote the lyrics, as well as the music,...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionSongwriter
Date of Birth9 June 1891
CityPeru, IN
CountryUnited States of America
The world admits bears in pits do it, Even Pekingeses at the Ritz do it, Let's do it, let's fall in love.
Let's Do It; Let's Fall in Love.
The chimpanzees in the zoos do it, Some courageous kangaroos do it Let's do it, let's fall in love. I'm sure giraffes on the sly do it, Even eagles as they fly do it, Let's do it, let's fall in love.
Some Argentines, without means, do it, People say, in Boston , even beans do it. Let's do it, let's fall in love .
Every time I look down on this timeless town Whether blue or gray be her skies. Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears, More and more do I realize: I love Paris in the springtime. I love Paris in the fall. I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles, I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles. I love Paris every moment, Every moment of the year. I love Paris, why, oh why do I love Paris? Because my love is near.
Birds do it, bees do it, even educated fleas do it; let's do it, let's fall in love.
The 1860s-era house, which has about 21 rooms, had fallen into disrepair over the years. It had been split into several apartments, and police found a methamphetamine lab in one of the apartments two years ago. The museum plans to sell fudge made with recipes from the now-closed Arnold's Candies of Peru. At his shows, Porter gave away boxes of the candy as presents.
A slap and a tickle Is all that the fickle Male Ever has in his head
You're the Nile,/ You're the Tower of Pisa,/ You're the smile/ On the Mona Lisa.
In olden days a glimpse of stocking was looked on as something shocking but now, God knows, anything goes.
It was great fun, But it was just one of those things.
I don't know anyone who sits down to write a song hit except Irving Berlin. He can't help writing hits.
I ask the Lord in Heaven above / What is this thing called Love?
Something that simply mystifies me.