Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
Groucho MarxRead
When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun.'
Interpretation
True friends support each other in tough times and share in life's adventures.
This quote by Groucho Marx humorously highlights the difference between a good friend and a best friend. A good friend may come to your aid in difficult situations, such as getting you out of trouble, but a best friend is someone who not only supports you but also shares in your experiences, even the wild or reckless ones, suggesting a deep bond and a shared sense of fun and adventure in life.
In practice
This quote can be shared at a friend's gathering to celebrate close friendships.
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.
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!
My true friends have always given me that supreme proof of devotion, a spontaneous aversion for the man I loved.
When I was young, I expected from people more than they could give: neverending friendship and constant excitement. Now I expect less than they can actually can give: to stay close silently. And their feelings, friendship, noble deeds always seem like a miracle to me: a true grace.
Yes, there is no doubt that paper is patient and as I don't intend to show this cardboard-covered notebook, bearing the proud name of "diary," to anyone, unless I find a real friend, boy or girl, probably nobody cares. And now I come to the root of the matter, the reason for my starting a diary: it is that I have no such real friend.
Everyone says they want community and friendship. But mention accountability or commitment to people, and they run the other way.
Have no friends not equal to yourself.
Certain flaws are necessary for the whole. It would seem strange if old friends lacked certain quirks.
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