A Quote by Jean Rostand

Theories pass. The frog remains. — © Jean Rostand
Theories pass. The frog remains.
I noticed affixed to a laboratory door the following words: "Les théories passent. Le Grenouille reste. [The theories pass. The frog remains.] &mdashJean Rostand, Carnets d'un biologiste." There is a risk that in the less severe discipline of criticism the result may turn out to be different; the theories will remain but the frog may disappear.
Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.
In restaurants where they serve frog's legs, what do they do with the rest of the frog? Do they just throw it away? You never see "frog torsos" on the menu. Is there actually a garbage can full of frog bodies in the alley? I wouldn't want to be a homeless guy looking for an unfinished cheeseburger and open the lid on that
If you throw a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will hop right out. But if you put that frog in a pot of tepid water and slowly warm it, the frog doesn't figure out what going on until it's too late. Boiled frog. It's just a metter of working by slow degrees.
Le biologiste passe, la grenouille reste. The biologist passes, the frog remains.
Do you know the story of the scorpion and the frog? You know, the frog agrees to carry the scorpion across the river, because the scorpion promises not to sting him. And then the scorpion stings the frog, half way across the river. The drowning frog asks him why he did it, when they'll both drown, and the scorpion says that he's a scorpion, and it's his nature to sting.
A lot of people have used the frog splash over the years. Every one else that used it is a four star frog splash, when RVD did it, it became a five star frog splash.
"How does one conquer fear, Don B.?" "One takes a frog and sews it to one's shoe," he said. "The left or the right?" Don B. gave me a pitying look. "Well, you'd look mighty funny going down the street with only one frog sewed to your shoes, wouldn't you?" he said. "One frog on each shoe."
Theories come and go, but fundamental data always remains.
Analysing comedy is like dissecting a frog. Nobody laughs and the frog dies.
Kissing the frog to get the prince is a waste of a perfectly good frog.
Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog. Few people are interested and the frog dies of it.
Understanding humor is like dissecting a live frog. It can be done, but the frog tends to die in the process.
As the old fisherman remarked after explaining the various ways to attach a frog to a hook, it's all the same to the frog.
Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog: Nobody really enjoys it, and the frog generally dies as a result.
The male frog in mating season," said Crake, "makes as much noise as it can. The females are attracted to the male frog with the biggest, deepest voice because it suggests a more powerful frog, one with superior genes. Small male frogs—it's been documented—discover if they position themselves in empty drainpipes, the pipe acts as a voice amplifier and the small frog appears much larger than it really is." So?" So that's what art is for the artist, an empty drainpipe. An amplifier. A stab at getting laid.
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