Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife.
Groucho MarxRead
Well, Art is Art, isn't it? Still, on the other hand, water is water. And east is east and west is west and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does. Now you tell me what you know.
Interpretation
What this quote means
Art is subjective, yet some things are inherently as they are.
This quote by Groucho Marx humorously suggests that while art is open to interpretation and subjective, certain truths remain unchanged. By playfully juxtaposing seemingly unrelated ideas, he invites us to reflect on the nature of perception and reality, and how we sometimes mix or confuse distinct categories.
Themes
ArtHumorPerceptionTruthSubjectivity
In practice
Example use cases
This quote could be shared during a discussion about the nature of art and its interpretations.
More from Groucho Marx
All quotes →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.
Groucho MarxRead
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.
Groucho MarxRead
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.
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.
Groucho MarxRead
Die, my dear? Why that's the last thing I'll do!
Groucho MarxRead
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