It's not pining, it's passed on. This parrot is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet its maker. This is a late parrot. It's a stiff. Bereft of life, it rests in peace. If you hadn't nailed it to the perch, it would be pushing up the daisies. It's rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. This is an ex-parrot.
You beat me to it. I was going to put "Pining for the fjords?!?!?"
I quite like "All right... all right... but apart from better sanitation and medicine and education and irrigation and public health and roads and a freshwater system and baths and public order... what have the Romans done for us?"
Had to add this one:
Pontius Pilate: Hm! Now, what is your name, Jew?
Brian: Brian, sir.
Pontius Pilate: Bvian, eh?
Brian: No, no; Brian.
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