I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.
“I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.”
— Groucho Marx · Time
The World Motivation
I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.
“I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.”
— Groucho Marx · Time
Explore more quotes by Groucho Marx on topics like Time, wisdom, and life lessons.
“I remember the first time I had sex - I kept the receipt.”
“If I held you any closer I would be on the other side of you.”
“From the moment I picked up your book until I put it down, I was convulsed with laughter. Some day I intend reading it.”
“I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.”
“She got her looks from her father. He's a plastic surgeon.”
“Please accept my resignation. I don't care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.”
“Flesh is willing, but the Soul requires”
“Time heals even the deepest wounds.”
“When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek.”
“There is a time in the life of every boy when he for the first time takes the backward view of life. Perhaps that is the moment when he crosses the line into manhood. The boy is walking through the street of his town. He is thinking of the future and of the figure he will cut in the world. Ambitions and regrets awake within him. Suddenly something happens; he stops under a tree and waits as for a voice calling his name. Ghosts of old things creep into his consciousness; the voices outside of himself whisper a message concerning the limitations of life. From being quite sure of himself and his future he becomes not at all sure. If he be an imaginative boy a door is torn open and for the first time he looks out upon the world, seeing, as though they marched in procession before him, the countless figures of men who before his time have come out of nothingness into the world, lived their lives and again disappeared into nothingness. The sadness of sophistication has come to the boy. With a little gasp he sees himself as merely a leaf blown by the wind through the streets of his village. He knows that in spite of all the stout talk of his fellows he must live and die in uncertainty, a thing blown by the winds, a thing destined like corn to wilt in the sun.”