Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
Groucho MarxRead
Practically everybody in New York has half a mind to write a book, and does.
Interpretation
This quote humorously suggests that many people want to write a book, but it also implies that not all such attempts are successful.
Groucho Marx's quote reflects the idea that in a city as vibrant and full of personality as New York, many individuals have aspirations to create literature. However, the phrase also carries a playful critique of the literary ambitions in a bustling environment, insinuating that while many start writing, the actual completion and quality of the work may vary greatly.
In practice
This quote is perfect for a discussion on creative writing workshops.
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!
The urge to make art or contemplate philosophy does not go away when you are sick. Those urges just become transfigured by illness.
I feel as though I've gotten to a point where I don't really want to set a book in any real place ever again.
Variety is very, very good. Going from medium to medium, if you get the chance to do it, from theater to television to film, which are all distinctly different, keeps me sharp. What works in one doesn't work in the other, and you have to be looking for the truth of the performance, whatever way that medium might demand.
When I really have to push and grope and scratch and claw to make a story work, that's a telltale sign that maybe something conceptually isn't right.
To keep beauty in its place is to make all things beautiful.
I look at a nude. There are myriads of tiny tints. I must find the ones that will make the flesh on my canvas live and quiver.
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