Love & Passion Quote by W. C. Fields

Fields’ line works because it treats sex the way a seasoned comic treats any sacred cow: as material. The joke is built on a tidy logical trap. He begins with a ranking system, the sort of practical, commonsense calculus a grump might apply to cigars, naps, or a decent martini: some things outrank sex, some don’t. Then he undercuts the whole premise with the kicker that sex is incomparable. It’s a bait-and-switch from measurement to singularity, and the laugh comes from realizing we were invited to quantify something that refuses to sit still on a scale.

The subtext is classic W. C. Fields: worldly, slightly annoyed, and allergic to sentiment. He isn’t selling sex as transcendent romance; he’s puncturing the melodrama around it. The line also flatters the audience’s sophistication. It assumes you’ve lived long enough to know pleasure is plural, that sex can be ecstatic or tedious, and that both truths can coexist without turning you into a hypocrite. That tonal ambivalence is the point.

Context matters: Fields’ era was policed by prudish public standards (and later, the tightening grip of Production Code morality), which made any frank nod to sex feel like a wink in a locked room. He slips past censors and propriety by sounding like he’s making a philosophical observation, not a dirty remark. It’s comedy as contraband: a small, precise rebellion delivered with a raised eyebrow.