Quote Investigator® – Page 214

I Did Not Attend the Funeral, But I Sent a Nice Letter Saying I Approved of It

Mark Twain? James Wayle? Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar? Walter Winchell? Anonymous?

Dear Quote Investigator: In the past few days several phony quotations were widely disseminated on the internet; in other words, they went viral. My question is about a saying that might be genuine. A CNN article contains the following expression attributed to Mark Twain:

I didn’t attend the funeral, but I sent a nice letter saying I approved of it.

Do you think this is correct?

Quote Investigator: The author of the CNN article carefully refrained from definitively crediting the words to Twain [CNMT]. Instead, he said that the phrase had “long been attributed to Twain”.

This saying has not been found in Twain’s writings, and it is not included in the TwainQuotes.com repository. Website editor Barbara Schmidt states that currently “there is no evidence that links Mark Twain to the funeral quote” [TQMT].

Indeed, the basic joke was credited to Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar in 1884 and this ascription was mentioned in news reports for decades afterwards. During his long career, Hoar was a lawyer, a Massachusetts Supreme Court Judge, and an Attorney General of the United States.

The funeral referred to in the jest was for the prominent abolitionist and orator Wendell Phillips who died in Boston on February 2, 1884 according to Encyclopedia Americana and Encyclopedia Britannica [EAWP] [EBWP]. Later that month on the 29th a newspaper report was published presenting a joke credited to Hoar of the type that was later attributed to Twain [CCEH]:

Boston Post.—The Hon. E. R. Hoar did not love Phillips over much in his later years. It is now reported of him that while the remains of the great agitator were awaiting the final ceremonies a distinguished Cambridge gentleman asked him if he was going to attend Wendell Phillips’s funeral. “No,” was the reply, “but I approve it!”

In 1895, after the death of Hoar, the New York Times printed “Anecdotes of the Late Judge Hoar”. A version of the tale was included, and the newspaper indicated that Hoar’s memorable jibe at Phillips was his “best-known remark” [NYEH]:

Out of this feeling between the Judge and the agitator came what is, perhaps, Judge Hoar’s best-known remark, and the one that has oftenest been seen in print. After Phillips’s death, some one met Judge Hoar and asked him if he intended to attend the funeral. “No,” answered the Judge, “I don’t; but I approve of it.”

The earliest instance located by QI with an attribution to Mark Twain appeared in a humor magazine called “The Judge” in 1938. A reader identified as “James Wayle, of Milwaukee” wrote a letter to the editors of the periodical recounting a story about Twain [TJMT]:

… he writes to remind us that Mark Twain once refused to attend a noted politician’s funeral. “But then,” adds Mr. Wayle, “he wrote them a very nice letter explaining that he approved of it.”

In 1943 this story appeared in a volume titled “The Speaker’s Notebook” with an acknowledgment to “The Judge” magazine [SHMT]:

Mark Twain once refused to attend a noted politician’s funeral. But he wrote a very nice letter explaining that he approved of it.

Judge.

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “I Did Not Attend the Funeral, But I Sent a Nice Letter Saying I Approved of It”

Quote Origin: I Have Never Killed Any One, But I Have Read Some Obituary Notices with Great Satisfaction

Mark Twain? Clarence Darrow? Overland Monthly? Anonymous?

Question for Quote Investigator: I saw the quotation below when it was tweeted a few days ago. It was credited to Mark Twain, but apparently he never said it:

I’ve never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure.

Later I read news reports claiming that the famous lawyer Clarence Darrow said something similar. Could you explore this topic?

Reply from Quote Investigator: Clarence Darrow did deliver a similar quip on several occasions. The earliest instance located by QI occurred during a speech in 1922. He also spoke a version during congressional testimony in 1926. The remark was popular, and he included another version in his autobiography “The Story of My Life” in 1932.

In 1922 Darrow addressed the “Illinois Conference on Public Welfare” with a speech simply titled “Crime”. He described candidly his feelings about reading obituaries, but the prolixity of his remark reduced its wittiness. In later versions Darrow presented more concise statements:¹

One reason why we don’t kill is because we are not used to it. I never killed anybody, but I have done just the same thing. I have had a great deal of satisfaction over many obituary notices that I have read. I never got into the habit of killing. I could mention the names of many that it would please me if I could read their obituaries in the paper in the morning.

In Darrow’s 1932 memoir he wrote a short version that decades later would be suitable for tweeting:²

I have never killed any one, but I have read some obituary notices with great satisfaction.

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

The Architect Can Only Advise His Client to Plant Vines

Frank Lloyd Wright? Herbert Hoover? Arch Oboler? Apocryphal?

Dear Quote Investigator: When I was a child I saw a gallery of images showing a house built at the top of a waterfall. I fell in love with that house, called Fallingwater, and later learned that it was built by the extraordinary American architect Frank Lloyd Wright. The amusing quote I would like you to investigate was listed in a biographical sketch that I read many years ago and still remember:

The doctor can bury his mistakes, but an architect can only advise his clients to plant vines.

Does this accurately depict Wright’s sense of humor or was it invented by someone else?

Quote Investigator: I agree that Fallingwater is a beautiful home. The quote you provide is very similar to a statement made by Wright in a lecture published in 1931. The address was titled “To the Young Man in Architecture” and near the end of the discourse Wright presented a series of fourteen pithy numbered points. Here are three:[ref] 1931, Two Lectures on Architecture by Frank Lloyd Wright, To the Young Man in Architecture, (Start Lecture Page 33), Page 62, The Art institute of Chicago, The Lakeside Press, R.R. Donnelley & Sons Company, Chicago. (HathiTrust) link [/ref]

9. Abandon as poison the American idea of the “quick turnover.” To get into practice “half-baked” is to sell out your birthright as an architect for a mess of pottage, or to die pretending to be an architect.

10. Take time to prepare. Ten years’ preparation for preliminaries to architectural practice is little enough for any architect who would rise “above the belt” in true architectural appreciation or practice.

11. Then go as far away as possible from home to build your first buildings. The physician can bury his mistakes,—but the architect can only advise his client to plant vines.

Wright used the term “physician” instead of “doctor” in this original version. The quotation was further disseminated when an excerpt from the lecture was reprinted in the periodical “The Architect and Engineer” in November of 1931. Wright enjoyed the joke and used it multiple times over the years.[ref] 1931 November, The Architect and Engineer, Thumb Tacks and T-Square, Page 13, Column 3, Architect and Engineer, San Francisco, California. (Verified with scans; Many thanks to the Library Assistant at the Architecture Library of Georgia Tech) [/ref]

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “The Architect Can Only Advise His Client to Plant Vines”

See the Happy Moron

Dorothy Parker? James Webb Young? Owen H. Hott? Anonymous?

Dear Quote Investigator: A friend and I recently wondered about the origin of the following poem. We did not have much luck tracking it:

See the happy moron,
He doesn’t give a damn,
I wish I were a moron,
My God! perhaps I am!

There is a web page crediting Dorothy Parker. Do you think that ascription is accurate?

Quote Investigator: This quatrain has had an oddly eventful history. It has appeared in some of the most prestigious reference works in the English language, e.g., The Oxford English Dictionary (OED), Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, and the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. In the OED the verse was originally used to help explicate the word “moron”, but it was subsequently removed by an unsympathetic editor. The poem was re-inserted by a third editorial action as an example for the word “damn”, and that is where it is found today.

The earliest citation located by QI occurred in an April 1927 speech at a meeting of college Alumni Secretaries. Morse A. Cartwright, Director of the American Association for Adult Education, read the poem without attribution during a talk given to fellow convention attendees [AACR]:

There is a little poem I saw recently which I should like to recite to you. It goes as follows:

“Oh, see the happy moron;
He doesn’t give a damn.
I wish I were a moron;
Indeed, perhaps I am.”

In November of 1927 the poem was repeated at a gathering of the Ohio Newspaper Women’s Association as reported in the Cleveland Plain Dealer newspaper [CPDH]. Again, no attribution was given. In 1928 the verse was printed in a Decatur, Illinois newspaper without ascription [DHIH].

In March of 1929 a question about the poem was sent to the “Queries and Answers” columnist of the New York Times [NYP1]:

M. S. H.–Desired, the poem written by Dorothy Parker which begins somewhat at follows: “I wish I were a moron” … and ends, “My God, perhaps I am!”

This is the first time, known to QI, that a name was attached to the poem. In April of 1929 an answer from a reader was published in the “Queries and Answers” column that supplied a full version of the quatrain, and the attribution to Parker was not challenged by the newspaper [NYP2]. However, no evidence was provided that Parker actually composed or published the verse, and QI has not found it in her writings. Parker did craft a 1922 poem that used the word “moron” to refer to a character described as the “gladdest of the glad”, but the eighteen line work was rather different in tone and intent.

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “See the Happy Moron”

She Was a Sinking Vessel with No Freight to Throw Overboard

Mark Twain? Apocryphal?

Dear Quote Investigator: I have heard the following quote attributed to Mark Twain:

A man who doesn’t smoke is like a sinking ship with no rats to desert it.

True of false?

Quote Investigator: QI was unable to locate a close match for that quotation in the works of Mark Twain; however, QI did find an anecdote about a woman who did not smoke, drink, or swear. The woman was ill, and Twain employed a figure of speech that compared her plight to that of a sinking vessel without any freight to throw overboard. This episode was presented in the 1897 travel book “Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World”, and it may have been transmuted over time to yield the questioner’s quotation.

Here is an excerpt from Twain’s book describing the medical advice he offered to the woman [FESF]:

Continue reading “She Was a Sinking Vessel with No Freight to Throw Overboard”

French Have Taken Umbrage. English Have Taken Cognizance.

Who was fighting? Russians? French? Zulus? English? Prussians? Boers?

Dear Quote Investigator: When I worked on a student newspaper in college I was told a story about a late night editor at a major newspaper who received a terse wire report saying the “Russians Have Taken Umbrage”. The editor did not know the meaning of this phrase, and his attempt to locate “Umbrage” on a map failed. However, he was certain that this was a significant news item. The next day the paper bannered something like:

Umbrage Captured; Defenders Retreat in Disarray

I have never seen a copy of the actual news article, but the time period was World War II. Is this a newspaperman’s legend, or is there some truth in this anecdote?

Quote Investigator: First, to understand this humorous tale it is helpful to know that “to take umbrage” means “to take offense” or “to be displeased”.

Jokes based on misunderstanding “umbrage” in a military context stretch far back in time. QI has located a variant that uses this form of wordplay in “The Town and Country Magazine” in 1782. The setting of this jape is “During the war between France and England in the last reign.” The following narrative describes the experiences of a newspaper reader who is initially made unhappy by what he reads. In the text the word “Damn” is represented by “D—n” [TCFE]:

Coming to a paragraph which informed him that the French had taken umbrage, he removed his spectacles from his nose with unusual precipitation, and exclaimed, with an eagerness which evidently proceeded from the strength of his feelings, though it was at the expence of his understanding–“D–n these fellows, they will have every town they come to if they go on at this here rate.”

When he had vented his indignation at the taking umbrage, he resumed his paper, and finding, soon afterwards, in another page that the English had taken cognizance, his face brightened up amazingly; looking round the room with an air of satisfaction he said, “Aye, aye, this is something like; now we are even with the powder-puffs; aye, aye, tis’ high time to put a spoke into Mounsheer’s wheels.”

“To take cognizance” means “to take notice” or “to acknowledge”. “Mounsheer” is a deliberate misspelling of the French word “Monsieur” which is a courtesy title equivalent to the English ‘Mr.’ The passage appears in a section called “Letters to the Delineator’ and the letter writer is named Samuel Snug.

Here are additional selected citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “French Have Taken Umbrage. English Have Taken Cognizance.”

Venice: Streets Full of Water. Advise.

Robert Benchley? Mattie Barwick? David Niven?

Dear Quote Investigator: You might enjoy looking into this confusing question. I have been searching newspaper databases for a project involving the Venice canals. The following humorous note appeared in a newspaper called the Miami News on October 30, 1958 [MNGB]:

Word comes from European traveler, Mattie (Mrs. George) Barwick who is abroad with Mrs. William H. Walker, Jr.

Says she. “Just arrived in Venice. Find all streets flooded. Please advise.”

I recognized this as a restatement of a memorable joke telegram sent by Robert Benchley. Nowadays with the water problems in Venice the quip is less amusing.

I checked some quotation references to find out when Benchley came up with this clever comment. My puzzlement stems from the fact that Benchley is first credited with the joke in 1968, and this is ten years after the Miami News article. Benchley died in 1945. Do you think he is being given credit for something he never said?

Quote Investigator: A version of this message is attributed to Benchley in the Yale Book of Quotations [YBRB], the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations [ODRB], the Penguin Dictionary of Modern Humorous Quotations [PMRB] and many other references. The YBQ contains the best citation information, and it refers to the 1968 book “The Algonquin Wits” edited by Robert E. Drennan [AWRB]:

On a summer vacation trip Benchley arrived in Venice and immediately wired a friend:

“STREETS FLOODED. PLEASE ADVISE.”

QI has located a version of the anecdote and the telegram text under the title “Bulletin from Benchley” in the October 1958 issue of The Reader’s Digest, and this should help to resolve the riddle [RDRB]:

David Niven tells about the time he and Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., planned a European itinerary for humorist Robert Benchley: “I made arrangements for him to visit some friends of mine in Venice. The day Benchley got there he sent us a cable which read:

STREETS FULL OF WATER. ADVISE.

—As told to Dean Jennings in The Saturday Evening Post

The Reader’s Digest was typically released before the date on its cover, and the issue of the Saturday Evening Post containing the words attributed to Benchley must have been available before that time. Hence the joke was widely disseminated before it appeared in the Miami News at the end of October in 1958.

Here are some additional select citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “Venice: Streets Full of Water. Advise.”

I Don’t Want to Belong to Any Club That Will Accept Me as a Member

Friars Club? Delaney Club? Beverly Hills Tennis Club? Hillcrest Country Club?

Dear Quote Investigator: There is a wonderful story about Groucho Marx and an elite private club. I have heard so many variants of this tale that I was hoping you would investigate. In one version Groucho resigns from a club, and in another version he refuses to join a club. He sends a telegram or a letter saying something like the following:

I don’t care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as members.
I don’t want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member.
I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.
I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.

The club is called: The Friars Club of Beverly Hills, The Delaney Club, The Lambs Club, The Beverly Hills Tennis Club, or The Hillcrest Country Club. What do you think?

Quote Investigator: Evidence shows that Groucho Marx crafted a magnificently humorous line that has become a comedy classic. However, the same evidence does not reveal the exact wording of his comical gem or the precise circumstances of its employment. Yet, there is some agreement; for example, sources concur that Groucho was resigning from a club, and he was not refusing to join one.

On October 20, 1949 the Hollywood columnist Erskine Johnson published the tale. This is the earliest instance located by QI:[ref] 1949 October 20, Dunkirk Evening Observer, In Hollywood by Erskine Johnson, Page 22, Column 5, Dunkirk, New York. (NewspaperArchive)[/ref]

Groucho Marx’s letter of resignation to the Friars’ Club: “I don’t want to belong to any club that would accept me as one of its members.”

On October 13, 1951 the only son of Groucho, Arthur Marx, published a version of the anecdote in Collier’s Magazine. This is the earliest variant by a close family member with intimate knowledge of Groucho. Over the years Arthur Marx recounted different narratives of this episode, and some will be presented further below. In 1951 he said that Groucho joined the Friars Club at the insistence of friends, but he did not participate. So Groucho sent a letter of resignation:[ref] 1951 October 13, Collier’s magazine, Groucho Is My Pop by Arthur Marx, Page 14, Column 2, P.F. Collier, New York. (Verified with hardcopy)[/ref]

In the next mail, he received a letter from the club’s president, wanting to know why he had resigned. My father promptly wrote back, “Because I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member!”

In 1959 Groucho himself told about resigning a club in his memoir “Groucho and Me”, but he presented a fictionalized version of the story in which the club was referred to as the Delaney Club:[ref] 1995 [reprint of 1959 edition], Groucho and Me by Groucho Marx, Chapter 24, Page 321, Da Capo Press Inc., New York. (Verified with Amazon Look Inside)[/ref]

The following morning I sent the club a wire stating, PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON’T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER.

In 1988 Groucho’s son wrote another description of the resignation in his book “My Life with Groucho: A Son’s Eye View”. In this version Groucho resigned from the Hillcrest Country Club and not the Friars Club or the Delaney Club.[ref] 1992 [reprint of 1988 edition], My Life with Groucho by Arthur Marx, Pages 187-188, Robson Books Ltd., London. (Verified with hardcopy)[/ref]

Dear Board,

I don’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member.

Sincerely yours,
Groucho Marx.

These four variants of the tale are the most salient in QI’s opinion, but several more are available. No one seems to know the exact wording of the resignation message which is endlessly mutable.

Here are selected citations in chronological order.

Continue reading “I Don’t Want to Belong to Any Club That Will Accept Me as a Member”

Taxes: This is a Question Too Difficult for a Mathematician

Albert Einstein? Associated Press? Time magazine? Apocryphal?

Dear Quote Investigator: You recently discussed one quotation by Albert Einstein about taxes, but my question is about another remark attributed to the genius. The Canadian newspaper “Globe and Mail” published the following earlier this year [GME]:

Albert Einstein said of his tax return, “This is too difficult for a mathematician. It takes a philosopher.”

Is this information accurate?

Quote Investigator: There is evidence that Einstein spoke this; however, the precise wording in the original differs. The following text appeared in an Associated Press article in the New York Times titled “Tax Form Baffles Even Prof. Einstein” dated March 11, 1944 [NTE]:

Asked what his reaction was to the maze of income tax questions, Professor Einstein, whose theory of relativity is supposedly understood by only seven persons in the world, replied:

“This is a question too difficult for a mathematician. It should be asked of a philosopher.”

The byline stated the location was Princeton, New Jersey, and Einstein did work at the Institute for Advanced Study of Princeton University in 1944. The AP wire story was widely distributed; for example, on the same day the quotation was printed in the Los Angeles Times [LAE] and the Christian Science Monitor [CME].

Continue reading “Taxes: This is a Question Too Difficult for a Mathematician”

“It’s too caustic.” “To hell with the cost.”

Who Said It? Samuel Goldwyn? Robert Benchley? Gracie Allen? Alva Johnston? Anonymous?

Who or What Was Caustic? The Little Foxes? Jim Tully? An Unnamed Actor? Mr. Rosenblatt? An Unnamed Script? An Unnamed Writer? Sidney Howard? Moss Hart?

Dear Quote Investigator: An entertaining legend about the powerful movie mogul Samuel Goldwyn has been amusing people for decades. “The Little Foxes” was a major Broadway hit in 1939 and Goldwyn was considering purchasing the rights to create a film based on the story. He asked his top advisor to see the play and report to him. Here is what the aide supposedly told Goldwyn together with his reply:

“Sam, it’s a great drama, but it might be a little too caustic.”
“I don’t care what it costs, I want it.”

This is my favorite anecdote about Goldwyn, and it is supported by the fact that he did buy the rights and made a classic movie starring Bette Davis. Could you research this quotation?

Quote Investigator:Thanks for sending in this fun story. Unfortunately, there is a problem with the timeline that makes this tale unlikely. In January 1930 the widely-syndicated columnist Walter Winchell reported a version of the joke based on the misconstrual of the word “caustic” that was being disseminated by the popular humorist and actor Robert Benchley. Thus, the core joke was in circulation about nine years before the premiere of “The Little Foxes”.

The tale centered on two movie magnates who began their careers in the garment business. This biographical detail matched Samuel Goldwyn who was a glove salesman before moving to Hollywood. The maladroit line was spoken by one of the magnates. Boldface has been added to excerpts:[ref] 1930 January 9, The Scranton Republican, On Broadway by Walter Winchell, Quote Page 5, Column 2, Scranton, Pennsylvania. (Newspapers_com)[/ref]

They were in conference trying to save a new picture that lacked, what critics usually call, “a wallop.”
“If we could only get someone to fix it up,” said one.
“Why don’t you get Jim Tully?” suggested an executive.
“Jim Tully is too caustic!”
“Oh,” thundered one of the magnates, “the hell with the cost, get him!”

The writer Robert Benchley constructed many humorous stories, and it was possible that he simply invented this anecdote to entertain friends. Alternatively, he may have been present at a meeting when the line was spoken. Special thanks to ace researcher Bill Mullins who located the citation given above.

Here are some additional citations in chronological order.

Continue reading ““It’s too caustic.” “To hell with the cost.””