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Once, when I was young and true. Someone left me sad - Broke my brittle heart in two And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke And that, I think, is worse.
Dorothy Parker
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Dorothy Parker
Age: 73 †
Born: 1893
Born: August 22
Died: 1967
Died: June 7
Columnist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
Screenwriter
Songwriter
Writer
West End
Monmouth County
New Jersey
Dorothy Rothschild
Dot Rothschild
Dottie Rothschild
Heart
Broke
Love
Folks
Think
Worse
Thinking
Left
Brittle
True
Unlucky
Two
Heartbreak
Someone
Folk
Young
Curse
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I wouldn't touch a superlative again with an umbrella.
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Writing well is the best revenge.
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Well, there are always those who cannot distinguish between glitter and glamour . . . the glamour of Isadora Duncan came from her great, torn, bewildered, foolhardy soul.
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If I don't drive around the park, I'm pretty sure to make my mark. If I'm in bed each night by ten, I may get back my looks again. If I abstain from fun and such, I'll probably amount to much But I shall stay the way I am, Because I do not give a damn.
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Now to me, Edith looks like something that would eat her young.
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Maybe it is only I, but conditions are such these days, that if you use studiously correct grammar, people suspect you of homosexual tendencies.
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I like to think of my shining tombstone. It gives me, as you might say, something to live for.
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... if this world were anything near what it should be there would be no more need of a Book Week than there would be a of a Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children.
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Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song
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...as for helping me in the outside world, the Convent taught me only that if you spit on a pencil eraser, it will erase ink.
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Women and elephants never forget.
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Brevity is the soul of lingerie.
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[On being told their loquacious, domineering host was 'outspoken':] By whom?
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Summer makes me drowsy. Autumn makes me sing. Winter's pretty lousy, but I hate Spring.
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[Hospitalized and pressing the nurse's button before dictating letters to her secretary:] This should assure us of at least forty-five minutes of undisturbed privacy.
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[From a window in the Writer's Building at MGM, which overlooked a cemetery:] Hello down there. It might interest you to know that up here we are just as dead as you are.
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I like best to have one book in my hand, and a stack of others on the floor beside me, so as to know the supply of poppy and mandragora will not run out before the small hours.
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When you have to apologize, it is well, I suppose, to get the thing over quickly.
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Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed— I think they would be better dead.
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Hell's afloat in lover's tears.
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