Harpo Quotes

All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy. I had to fight my brothers. I had to fight my cousins and my uncles. A girl child ain't safe in a family of men. But I never thought I'd have to fight in my own house. She let out her breath. I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me.

I feel a little peculiar around the children. For one thing, they grown. And I see they think me and Nettie and Shug and Albert and Samuel and Harpo and Sofia and Jack and Odessa real old and don't know much what going on. But I don't think us feel old at all. And us so happy. Matter of fact, I think this the youngest us ever felt.

My name is whaddya care My home is anywhere People say I'm awful dumb So I thought to you I'd come

He [Harpo] loved life and lived it joyously and deeply and that's about as good an epitaph as anyone can have.

All my life I had to fight... But I never thought I'd have to fight in my own house... I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me.

Honk, honk!

You know what you remind me of? The telegram Harpo Marx sent his brothers: No message. Harpo.” That made him grin. Sarah said, “You would think it was funny.” “Well? Isn’t it?

Maanalainen kolahtaa kuin keksilaatikko, murut töyssähtävät, tee höyryää enkä minä Lontoossa mykkänä harpo

The truth, if it ever existed, has gone through its customary transformation into something more easily digested by the human mind.

I'm gitting tired of Harpo, she say. All he think about since us married is how to make me mind. He don't want a wife, he want a dog.

Why us always have family reunion on July 4th, say Henrietta, mouth poke out, full of complaint. It so hot. White people busy celebrating they independence from England July 4th, say Harpo, so most black folks don’t have to work. Us can spend the day celebrating each other.

She say, All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy, I had to fight my brothers. I had to fight my cousins and my uncles. A girl child ain't safe in a family of men. But I never thought I'd have to fight in my own house. She let out her breath. I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I'll kill him dead before I let him beat me. Now if you want a dead son-in-law you just keep on advising him like you doing. She put her hand on her hip. I used to hunt game with a bow and arrow, she say.

She say, All my life I had to fight. I had to fight my daddy. I had to fight my brothers. I had to fight my cousins and my uncles. A girl child ain’t safe in a family of men. But I never thought I’d have to fight in my own house. She let out her breath. I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I’ll kill him dead before I let him beat me.

When Pa tell you to do something, you do it, he say. When he say not to, you don’t. You don’t do what he say, he beat you. Sometime beat me anyhow, I say, whether I do what he say or not. That’s right, say Harpo. But not Sofia. She do what she want, don’t pay me no mind at all. I try to beat her, she black my eyes. Oh, boo-hoo, he cry. Boo-hoo-hoo.

I'm gitting tired of Harpo, she say. All he think about since us married is how to make me mind. He don't want a wifw, he want a dog.

I loves Harpo, she say. God knows I do. But I’ll kill him dead before I let him beat me.

What make him pull through? I ast Oh, she say, Harpo made him send you the rest of your sister's letters. Right after that he start to improve. You know meanness kill, she say.

I'm getting tired of Harpo, she say. All he think about since us married is how to make me mind. He don't want a wife, he want a dog.

You ever hit her? Mr. _____ ast. Harpo look down at his hands. Naw suh, he say low, embarrass.

Dear God, Harpo ast his daddy why he beat me. Mr —— say, Cause she my wife. Plus, she stubborn. All women good for – he don’t finish. He just tuck his chin over the paper like he do. Remind me of Pa.

Shug act more manly than most men, I mean she upright, honest. Speak her mind and the devil take the hindmost, he say. You know Shug will fight, he say. Just like Sofia. She bound to live her life and be herself no matter what. Mr. -- thin all this is stuff men do. But Harpo not like this, I tell him. You not like this. What Shug got is womanly it seem like to me. Specially since she and Sofia the ones got it.

Many years ago a very wise man named Bernard Baruch took me aside and put his arm around my shoulder. "Harpo my boy," he said, "I'm going to give you three pieces of advice, three things you should always remember." My heart jumped and I glowed with expectation. I was going to hear the magic password to a rich, full life from the master himself. "Yes sir?" I said. And he told me the three things. I regret that I've forgotten what they were.

Every time they ast me to do something, Miss Celie, I act like I’m you. I jump right up and do just what they say. She look wild when she say that, and her bad eye wander round the room. Mr. _____ suck in his breath. Harpo groan. Miss Shug cuss. She come from Memphis special to see Sofia.

In Arizona, being Mexican hadn’t been a big deal. In fact, it was a Mexican kid who had given Celaya his nickname, “Harpo.” The kid said Celaya’s puffy hair looked like Harpo Marx’s, and Celaya had decided to embrace it. But in the Navy, Harpo’s brown skin was a problem. From boot camp on, it seemed to Harpo that Navy recruiters had stacked the ranks with corn-fed rednecks from the middle and southern states. They called him “Pancho” and “wetback” and wanted to know when he was going to crawl back into that hole in Mexico he’d crawled out of. The rednecks didn’t care that Celaya’s family had been in America for four generations.

Hitler had been in power for six months. Duck Soup, said Harpo, was his most difficult movie, and the only one in which he worried about his performance. Not because of the director or the script. “The trouble was Adolph Hitler.” American radio was broadcasting Hitler’s speeches, and “twice we suspended shooting to listen to him scream.

(The most fascinating performer I knew in those days was a dame named Metcalfe who was a female female impersonator: To maintain the illusion and keep her job, she had to be a male impersonator when she wasn’t on. Onstage she wore a wig, which she would remove at the finish, revealing her mannish haircut. “Fooled you!” she would boom at the audience in her husky baritone. Then she would stride off to her dressing room and change back to men’s clothes. She fooled every audience she played to, and most of the managers she worked for, but her secret was hard to keep from the rest of the company. Every time she went to the men’s room, half the guys on the bill would pile in after her.)

Groucho Marx continued to alternately call Margaret Dumont “a great lady” and to denigrate her in interviews. But he seemed, at the end, to realize how important she’d been to his career. When accepting his 1974 Lifetime Achievement Oscar, the ailing Groucho told the audience, “I only wish Harpo and Chico could have been here—and Margaret Dumont.

You know Harpo and Sofia baby girl real sick? he say. Naw, I didn’t, I say. I point to Henrietta in the crowd. There she is over there, I say. She look just fine. Yeah, she look fine, he say, but she got some kind of blood disease. Blood sort of clot up in her veins every once in a while, make her sick as a dog. I don’t think she gon make it, he say.

When you lose something irreplaceable, you don´t mourn for the thing you lost. You mourn for yourself.

That funny, I never heard that humming before. What humming? Harpo ast. Listen, she say. Us git real quiet and listen. Sure enough, us hear ummmmmmmm. What it coming from? ast Sofia.She git up and go look out the door. Nothing there. Sound git lounder. Ummmmmmm. Harpo go look out the window. Nothing out there, he say. Humming say UMMMMMMM. I think I know what it is, I say. They say, What? I say, Everything. Yeah, they say. That makes a lots of sense.

Mr. _____ ast me the other day what it is I love so much bout Shug. He say he love her style. He say to tell the truth, Shug act more manly than most men. I mean she upright, honest. Speak her mind and the devil take the hindmost, he say. You know Shug will fight, he say. Just like Sofia. She bound to live her life and be herself no matter what. Mr. _____ think all this is stuff men do. But Harpo not like this, I tell him. You not like this. What Shug got is womanly it seem like to me. Specially since she and Sofia the ones got it. Sofia and Shug not like men, he say, but they not like women either. You mean they not like you or me. They hold they own, he say. And it’s different What I love best bout Shug is what she been through, I say. When you look in Shug’s eyes you know she been where she been, seen what she seen, did what she did. And now she know. That’s the truth, say Mr. ____. And if you don’t git out the way, she’ll tell you about it. Amen, he say. Then he say something that really surprise me cause it so thoughtful and common sense. When it come to what folks do together with they bodies, he say, anybody’s guess is as good as mine. But when you talk bout love I don’t have to guess. I have love and I have been love. And I thank God he let me gain understanding enough to know love can’t be halted just cause some peoples moan and groan. It don’t surprise me you love Shug Avery, he say. I have love Shug Avery all my life.

Quote taken from Chapter 1: "Alma idly wondered if he'd blow his nose, too. He did. Twice. He made it honk, the sound reminding Alma of Harpo Marx squeezing his bulb horn. Isabel darted a look at Alma, giving her the don’t-you-dare-giggle squint. Alma dug her fingernails into her palm, the inappropriate laugh rising from her throat as she looked up at the ceiling. Blue refolded his handkerchief and returned it to inside his seersucker jacket. Thankfully, Alma’s urge to laugh subsided.

Us sit round the kitchen table and light up. I show 'em how to suck in they wind. Harpo git strangle. Sofia choke. Pretty soon Sofia say, That funny, I never heard that humming before. What humming? Harpo ask. Listen, she say. Us git real quiet and listen. Sure enough, us hear ummmmmmmm. What it coming from? ast Sofia. She git up and go look out the door. Nothing there. Sound git louder Ummmmmmm. Harpo go look out the window. Nothing out there, he say. Humming say UMMMMMMM. I think I know what it is, I say. They say, What? I say, Everything. Yeah, they say. That makes a lots of sense.

According to that book, only one Marx contributed an unforgotten pun to the Round Tablers’ vaunted word games. It wasn’t Groucho, who must have been furious. Nor was it Harpo, who for all we know sat at the table naked. Nor was it Chico, who had more dangerous games elsewhere. It was Gummo. Evidently Gummo had a seat at that table at least once, and he made it count. Everybody knows that Dorothy Parker, challenged to make a sentence with the word horticulture, quipped as follows: “You can lead a horticulture, but you can’t make her think.” But who knew that Gummo, taking on euphoria, came up with this: LEFT TO RIGHT: Harpo, Zeppo, Chico, Groucho, and Gummo, 1957. “Go outside and play,” Minnie told the brothers. “Which ones?” they asked. And she said: “Euphoria.”*

Anyhow, he say, you know how it is. You ast yourself one question, it lead to fifteen. I start to wonder why us need love. Why us suffer. Why us black. Why us men and women. Where do children really come from. It didn't take long to realize I didn't hardly know nothing. And that if you ast yourself why you black or a man or a woman or a bush it don't mean nothing if you don't ast why you here, period. So what you think? I ast. I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ast. And that in wondering bout the big things and asting bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, he say, the more I love. And people start to love you back, I bet, I say. They do, he say, surprise. Harpo seem to love me. Sofia and the children. I think even ole evil Henrietta love me a little bit, but that's cause she know she just as big a mystery to me as the man in the moon. Mr. ______ is busy patterning a shirt for folks to wear with my pants. Got to have pockets, he say. Got to have loose sleeves. And definitely you not spose to wear it with no tie. Folks wearing ties look like they being lynch. And then, just when I know I can live content without Shug, just when Mr. ______ done ast me to marry him again, this time in the spirit as well as in the flesh, and just after I saw Naw, I still don't like frogs, but let's us be friends, Shug write me she coming home. Now. Is this life or not? I be so calm. If she come, I be happy. If she don't, I be content. And then I figure this the lesson I was suppose to learn.

Moe Berg, Boston Red Sox catcher, had a quick mind and a vast store of general knowledge (and later became a spy, searching out atomic secrets for the OSS in Europe). Harpo Marx appeared without speaking, whistling his way riotously through the program. Fred Allen took over the show, relegating Fadiman to a panelist’s chair. Wendell Willkie did the same. Deems Taylor was a regular fill-in, appearing no less than 30 times.

The passing of an ordinary man is sad. The passing of a great man is tragic, and doubly tragic when the greatness passes before the man does.

Julius, who had a sour, bitter nature, became Groucho. (He was also the quartet’s treasurer, storing their wages in what vaudeville actors called a “grouch bag.”) Adolph, who played the harp, naturally became Harpo. Leonard the pathological womanizer Fisher dubbed Chico, pronounced “Chick-o.” Milton, so the story goes, became Gummo because, as a hypochondriac, he put on waterproof sneakers, known as “gumshoes,” at the first sign of rain. Their

Harpo, she's a lovely person. She deserves a good husband. Marry her before she finds one.

I always preferred Harpo to Groucho Marx.

I tried to hammer my red curls into something closer to Carole Lombard than Harpo Marx but eventually gave it up for lost.

I don't know whether my life has been a success or a failure. But not having any anxiety about becoming one instead of the other, and just taking things as they came along, I've had a lot of extra time to enjoy life.

The tenement at 179 [East 93rd Street, NYC] was the first real home I can remember. Until we moved there we had lived like gypsies, never traveling far -- in fact never out of the neighborhood -- but always moving, haunted and pursued by eviction notices, attachments, and glinty-eyed landlord's agents. The Marxes were poor, very poor. We were always hungry. And we were numerous. But thanks to the amazing spirit of my father and my mother, poverty never made any of us depressed or angry. My memory of my earliest years is vague but pleasant, full of the sound of singing and laughter, and full of people I loved.

And such a strange bunch of people. Blues aficionados in the ’60s were a sight to behold. They met in little gatherings like early Christians, but in the front rooms in southeast London. There was nothing else necessarily in common amongst them at all; they were all different ages and occupations. It was funny to walk into a room where nothing else mattered except he’s playing the new Slim Harpo and that was enough to bond you all together.

The time comes, like it or not, when a man has to stop kidding himself that he's as young as he feels.

The time has come for me to get my kite flying, stretch out in the sun, kick off my shoes, and speak my piece. —Harpo Marx

Harpo, a shy and silent fellow, was taken up by the Algonquin crowd, at that time probably the most famous and brilliant conversational group in America. On a clear day, a good many of the following would be assembled there for lunch and mayhem: George Kaufman, Marc Connelly, Robert Benchley, Alexander Woollcott, Franklin P. Adams, Dorothy Parker, Newman Levy, Robert Sherwood, Howard Dietz and many others.

When he was braced alcoholically for his classes, there was never a passable female student that he had not considered hungrily and, properly loaded, approached. Even complaisant girls, however, either froze or fled at their professor's greedy but classical advances. An unexpected goose or pinch on the bottom as they were mounting the stairs ahead of him, a sudden nip at the earlobe as they bent over the book he offered, a wild clutch at thigh, or a Marxian (Harpo) dive at bottom, a trousered male leg thrust between theirs as they passed his seat to make them fall in his lap, where he tickled their ribs - all these abrupt overtures sent them flying in terror. Brought to his senses by their screams, Kellsey retreated hastily. Some of the more experienced girls, after adjusting their skirts, blouses, coiffures, and maidenly nerves, realized that this was only a hungry man's form of courtship. They reminded themselves that old, famous, and rich men played very funny games, and they prepared themselves for the next move. But Kellsey, repulsed, became at once the haughty, sardonic, woman-hating pedant, leaving the poor dears a confused impression that they were the ones who had behaved badly, and sometimes, baffled by his subsequent hostility and bad grades, they even apologized.

Money isn’t everything, but the lack of money isn’t anything.

When you lose something irreplaceable, you don’t mourn for the thing you lost. You mourn for yourself.

The more culturally attuned movie stars, such as Charles Chaplin and Charles Laughton, mixed comfortably with their impressive new neighbors. Others committed the occasional faux pas. At a dinner at Harpo Marx's, the comedienne Fanny Brice walked up to Schoenberg and said, "C'mon, Professor, play us a tune.

I don’t know whether my life has been a success or a failure. But not having any anxiety about becoming one instead of the other, and just taking things as they came along, I’ve had a lot of extra time to enjoy life.