["For one year and one month Oscar Levant declared my house his house," Harpo Marx once recalled. "For one year and one month he ate my food, played my piano, ran up my phone bills, burned cigarette holes in my landlady's furniture, monopolised my record player and my coffee pot, gave his guests the run of the joint, insulted my guests, and never stopped complaining. He was an egomaniac. He was a leech and a lunatic -- but I loved the guy."]