Humor & Life Quote by George Burns

Burns lands the punchline with the relaxed authority of someone who spent a lifetime watching audiences decide, in real time, whether you’ve earned the next minute. On the surface, it’s a comedian’s jab at preachers who go long. Underneath, it’s a ruthless little theory of attention: people don’t hate sermons (or speeches, or meetings) so much as they hate the feeling of being trapped inside someone else’s self-importance.

The line works because it pretends to be practical advice while quietly accusing the speaker of vanity. A “good beginning” is seduction: establish trust, signal competence, promise payoff. A “good ending” is mercy: deliver the takeaway, release the room, let the audience feel smart for coming. The “secret” is that the middle is where egos roam free - the part where a speaker starts performing for themselves, confusing length with depth and repetition with emphasis. Burns doesn’t argue theology; he audits pacing.

Context matters: Burns’ comedy was built on timing, understatement, and the slow burn of confidence. He came up through vaudeville and early broadcast eras when dead air was lethal and attention was not an abstract concept but a measurable, nightly verdict. His joke also nods to a mid-century American culture of public moralizing - sermons as civic entertainment - while importing a nightclub ethic: if you can’t keep it tight, you don’t deserve the microphone.

It’s also a backhanded compliment to the audience. Their time is the scarce resource; the speaker’s job is to spend it like it’s real money.