I Refuse To Join Any Club That

Whoever Named It Necking Was A Poor Judge Of Anatomy.

To Write An Autobiography Of Groucho Marx Would Be As Asinine As To Read An Autobiography Of Groucho Marx.

I'm Not Much Of A Correspondent. My Letters Are Not Only Uninteresting But Sparse. I'm Glad I Don?t Have To Write For A Living. It?s Arduous Work And The Money Is Very Uncertain. On Those Rare Occasions When I Wander Into A Bookstore It Amazes Me To See The Avalanche Of Literature And Semi-literature That Is Turned Out Weekly In This Country. The People Who Write These Things Are Either Desperate For Money Or Love Starved. Why Should Anyone On A Nice Balmy Day Lock Oneself In An Office And Hit A Typewriter For Hours On End. I Think One Of The Greatest Pleasures In The World Is Not Writing.

Take Two Turkeys, One Goose, Four Cabbages, But No Duck, And Mix Them Together. After One Taste, You'll Duck Soup For The Rest Of Your Life

Room Service? Send Up A Larger Room.