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.

It’s so short, so spare, and yet it contains a multitude of despair. It’s a howl at the universe, and a howl at one’s inner-verse. It’s the admission that we will never be comfortable, never feel accepted, never accept our situation. It has a kernel of profound bitterness, and yet in its snappiness, it feels like an embrace.

This, for me, is perfect comedy, because it says: we’re all in this together. Get over it. Laugh.

Obv, it’s by Groucho Marx. Here’s a good investigation into the story behind the joke, which was told many times by many people around Marx, just showing how good it is.