Last night I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas I’ll never know.

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More from Groucho Marx

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it, misdiagnosing it and then misapplying the wrong remedies.

She’s afraid that if she leaves, she’ll become the life of the party.

A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five.

Now there’s a man with an open mind – you can feel the breeze from here!

Either this man is dead or my watch has stopped.