Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
Groucho MarxRead
Gentlemen, Chicolini here may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but don't let that fool you: he really is an idiot. I implore you, send him back to his father and brothers, who are waiting for him with open arms in the penitentiary. I suggest that we give him ten years in Leavenworth, or eleven years in Twelveworth.
Interpretation
This quote humorously points out the absurdity of judging someone based on appearances.
Groucho Marx uses satire and wit to illustrate how superficial judgments can be misleading. The quote implies that one should not be deceived by external attributes, as the character being described, although appearing foolish, is acknowledged as such. The humor lies in the exaggerated suggestion of a prison sentence for the idiot, which also underlines the absurdity of the situation.
In practice
This quote can be used in a comedic speech to illustrate how appearances can be deceiving.
Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
John you say you met in an elevator. Was the elevator going up at the time, or down? This is very important, for going down in an elevator one always has that sinking feeling and for all I know you may have this confused with love. If you were going up, it is clearly a case of love at first sight.
Firefly: Where is your husband? Mrs. Teasdale: Why, he's dead. Firefly: I'll bet he's just using that as an excuse. Mrs. Teasdale: I was with him to the very end. Firefly: Hmmph. No wonder he passed away. Mrs. Teasdale: I held him in my arms and kissed him. Firefly: Oh I see. Then, it was murder.
Chico: "Here's the book, it's a dollar" Groucho: "Here's a ten, and shoot the change." Chico: "I don't have change I'd have to give you nine more books.
Die, my dear? Why that's the last thing I'll do!
Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor.
Hearing nuns' confessions is like being stoned to death with popcorn.
I am not gay, but if I were, I would be the first one running out of the closet.
We want to get people laughing; we don't want to offend anybody.
Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups.
ARMOR, n. The kind of clothing worn by a man whose tailor is a blacksmith.
Isn't beer the holy libation of sincerity? The potion that dispels all hypocrisy, any charade of fine manners? The drink that does nothing worse than incite its fans to urinate in all innocence, to gain weight in all frankness?
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