Quotes from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it.”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“Die, my dear? Why that's the last thing I'll do!”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“Years ago, I tried to top everybody, but I don't anymore. I realized it was killing conversation. When you're always trying for a topper you aren't really listening. It ruins communication”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“I love my cigar too, but I take it out of my mouth once in a while.”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

“In a Chicago cafe the other night, an elderly man passed a table.

“There goes George,” observed an onlooker. “When he was young, he was a handsome guy and had many companies. Left a wife and two kids to starve, and ran off with another woman. And now look at him. Old, broke and very sad.”

“That’s the way-it-goes,” nodded Elly Kleinman. “Time wounds all heels.”
― Groucho Marx, quote from The Essential Groucho: Writings By, For, and about Groucho Marx

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“The word thing is an interesting word. At first glance it looks like the front half of one word combined with the last half of another. It's a versatile word. It can be good, as in, "what a nice thing," or "she has a thing for you." Or it can be bad, like "the thing under the bed," or "here's the thing, you're fired and you smell bad." Add an "s" to the back end of it and it becomes something that most people in the world can't get enough of.
Things
People love things. They collect things. They store things. They cherish things and then move on and cherish other things. People also buy things. Some buy a lot of things simply because their neighbors have those same things--which is a weird thing if you really think about it.
It's remarkable what we'll do for the sake of things when in reality things couldn't care less about us.”
― Obert Skye, quote from Leven Thumps and the Wrath of Ezra

“What the f**k is this?”

Trevor didn’t rise to the bait, as he hadn’t for the last several days. Calmly, he asked,

“What?”

“This.” Edgard threw the pristine, custom-made saddle on the ground within Trevor’s peripheral view.

Shit. How had Edgard found it? And why in the hell had that bastard gone snooping around instead of figuring out what was wrong with Meridian like he’d promised?

“Trev? I asked you a question.”

“You know damn good and well what it is, Ed.”

“I figured you would’ve gotten rid of it by now.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Edgard practically growled, “That don’t tell me why you still have it. That don’t tell me nothin’.”

Trevor turned his face toward the opposite fence to gaze across to the mountains. His reasons for keeping the saddle seemed sentimental, sloppy and stupid now, but he’d be damned if he’d share those reasons with anyone, least of all Edgard, the man responsible for those feelings.

Bootsteps made a sucking sound in the muck of the corral as Edgard closed the short distance between them. “I ain’t gonna drop it. Answer me.”

“Fine. You said I could do whatever I wanted with it. So I kept it.”

“You didn’t use it at all, did you?”

Trevor shook his head, keeping his eyes averted.

“Why not?”

“I have plenty of other saddles, saddles I like better.”

“That’s a piss-poor excuse. Try again.”

He stayed mum, wishing the damn mud would open up and swallow him like a sinkhole.

“Were you hoping if you kept it I’d come back?”

Trevor’s heart said yes but his mouth stayed tight as a rusty hinge.

“Answer the f**king question, Trevor.”

Edgard’s arrogant streak snapped Trevor’s forced patience. “What do you want me to say? It’s obvious I saved the goddamn saddle.”

“Why?”

“Because it reminded me of you, all right?” He kicked a chunk of mud and stalked away. “Fuck this and f**k you.”

Edgard rattled off something in Portuguese, something Trevor vaguely remembered as being a plea. Or was it a threat?

Dammit. His feet stopped. Trevor’s gaze zeroed in on Edgard, who’d circled him until they were standing less than a foot apart.

“Tell me why.”

Be cruel, that’ll nip this in the bud once and for all.

“I didn’t keep the f**kin’ thing because I had some girlish goddamn hope you’d come back lookin’ for it like Cinderella’s lost glass slipper, and we’d pick up where we left off after you left me.” He locked his eyes to the liquid heat in Edgard’s, not allowing the man to look away. “Especially after you made it crystal clear you weren’t ever comin’ back.”

Angry puffs of breath distorted the air between them.

Several beats passed before Edgard retorted, “But I am here now, aren’t I?”

“What? Am I supposed to be flippin’ cartwheels about that fact? I don’t know what you want from me, Ed. Take the saddle back if that’ll make you happy. I’ve got no use for it. I never did.” Angry, disgusted with himself, Edgard, and the whole uncomfortable situation, Trevor spun and walked toward the barn.

Edgard laughed—the taunting, soft laughter that was guaranteed to raise Trevor’s hackles and his ire. “It’s that easy for you? To get pissed off and walk away?”

“Yep. You’ve got no right to act so goddamned surprised since it’s a trick I learned from you, amigo.”

Not two seconds later, the air left Trevor’s lungs as Edgard tackled him to the ground. Trevor rolled to dislodge the man from his back; Edgard countered, took a swing and missed. Trevor bucked and twisted his shoulders, but Edgard anticipated the move and used the momentum against Trevor to try and shove Trevor’s face against the fence.

Before Edgard cornered him and held him down completely to land a punch, Trevor rolled again and pushed to his feet. A noise echoed behind him, but he ignored it as he fisted his hands in Edgard’s shearling coat, dragging him upright until they were nose to nose.”
― Lorelei James, quote from Rough, Raw, and Ready

“But we can't see or feel God, Emma, so how can you feel his love? I need more than prayers to a God I can't touch, see, or hear - I want to hear words of love, see kind actions, feel hugs and kisses...

We all do, because yes, we're human beings. But we were made in God's image. ... Which means, Casey, like Father, like daughter. You want to be loved? So does he. You want to be touched? So does he. You want to feel the rush of a kiss or a warmth of a hug? ... So does he, Casey. Which is why I rushed to him when Rory hurt me and my family betrayed me. And you know what? I found a God whose arms were open wide and whose heart leapt with joy when I called his name. As protective as a mother and as jealous as a lover, this was a God who wanted me for his very own. Me - Emma Mallory! To touch, to bless, to fill with his pleasure. ... Until I overflow, spilling his love on all those around me - treasured possessions of a passionate God.”
― Julie Lessman, quote from A Heart Revealed

“Gespräche behagten ihm ebenso wenig wie das Leben.”
― Harlan Ellison, quote from I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream

“Elle, what happened to your prudish behavior?”

Elle laughed. “It took a back seat when I was given a mate so hot that he could cook bacon on his abs.”
― Quinn Loftis, quote from Fate and Fury

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BookQuoters is a community of passionate readers who enjoy sharing the most meaningful, memorable and interesting quotes from great books. As the world communicates more and more via texts, memes and sound bytes, short but profound quotes from books have become more relevant and important. For some of us a quote becomes a mantra, a goal or a philosophy by which we live. For all of us, quotes are a great way to remember a book and to carry with us the author’s best ideas.

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