Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
Groucho MarxRead
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.
Interpretation
The quote playfully contrasts the feelings associated with love and the discomfort of a sinking feeling in an elevator.
Groucho Marx humorously compares the emotional experiences of love to the physical experience of riding an elevator. If the elevator is going up, it's an uplifting experience akin to love at first sight; if it's going down, it creates an unsettling feeling that could be mistaken for love. This comparison highlights how our emotions can be influenced by both our physical and situational contexts.
In practice
This quote can be used in a speech about the nature of love and how it affects us emotionally.
Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
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.
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.
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.
Perhaps we were friends first and lovers second. But then perhaps this is what lovers are.
Where there is no love, pour love in, and you will draw love out.
It was roses, roses, all the way,_x000D_ _x000D_ With myrtle mixed in my path like mad.
For what is love itself, for the one we love best? An enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.
Each time of life has its own kind of love.
She had heard Papa sing so many songs about the heart; the heart that was breaking - was aching - was dancing -was heavy laden - that leaped for joy - that was heavy in sorrow - that turned over - that stood still. She really believed the heart actually did those things.
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