A good cigar is a horse of another feather.
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. We quarrelled about Havanas-we fought o’er a good cheroot, And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. Open the old cigar-box-let me consider a space; In the soft blue veil […]
When a man and woman share the love of cigars, it creates a unique intimacy.
If I cannot smoke cigars in Heaven, I shall not go.
Our country has plenty of good five-cent cigars, but the trouble is they charge fifteen cents for them.
Close, but no cigar.
Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
I have to laugh when I think of the first cigar, because it was probably just a bunch of rolled up tobacco leaves.