Quotes by Dorothy Parker

W-- THE DRAMATISTS AUGUST THE WHITE LADY I KNOW I HAVE BEEN HAPPIEST TESTAMENT "I SHALL COME BACK" CONDOLENCE THE IMMORTALS A PORTRAIT PART TWO PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST CHANT FOR DARK HOURS UNFORTUNATE COINCIDENCE VERSE REPORTING LATE ARRIVAL AT A CONCLUSION INVENTORY NOW AT LIBERTY COMMENT PLEA PATTERN DE PROFUNDIS THEY PART BALLADE OF A GREAT WEARINESS RÉSUMÉ RENUNCIATION DAY-DREAMS THE VETERAN PROPHETIC SOUL VERSE FOR A CERTAIN DOG FOLK TUNE GODSPEED SONG OF PERFECT PROPRIETY SOCIAL NOTE ONE PERFECT ROSE BALLADE AT THIRTY-FIVE THE THIN EDGE SPRING SONG LOVE SONG INDIAN SUMMER PHILOSOPHY FOR AN UNKNOWN LADY THE LEAL FINIS WORDS OF COMFORT TO BE SCRATCHED ON A MIRROR MEN NEWS ITEM SONG OF ONE OF THE GIRLS LULLABY FAUT DE MIEUX ROUNDEL A CERTAIN LADY OBSERVATION SYMPTOM RECITAL FIGHTING WORDS RONDEAU REDOUBLÉ AUTOBIOGRAPHY THE CHOICE BALLADE OF BIG PLANS GENERAL REVIEW OF THE SEX SITUATION INSCRIPTION FOR THE CEILING OF A BEDROOM PICTURES IN THE SMOKE BIOGRAPHIES NOCTURNE INTERVIEW SONG IN A MINOR KEY EXPERIENCE NEITHER BLOODY NOR BOWED THE BURNED CHILD PART ONE _Threnody_ Lilacs blossom just as sweet Now my heart is shattered. If I bowled it down the street, Who's to say it mattered? If there's one that rode away What would I be missing? Lips that taste of tears, they say, Are the best for kissing. Eyes that watch the morning star Seem a little brighter; Arms held out to darkness are Usually whiter. Shall I bar the strolling guest, Bind my brow with willow, When, they say, the empty breast Is the softer pillow? That a heart falls tinkling down, Never think it ceases. Every likely lad in town Gathers up the pieces. If there's one gone whistling by Would I let it grieve me? Let him wonder if I lie; Let him half believe me. _The Small Hours_ No more my little song comes back; And now of nights I lay My head on down, to watch the black And wait the unfailing gray. Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow; And sad's a song that's dumb; And sad it is to lie and know Another dawn will come. _The False Friends_ They laid their hands upon my head, They stroked my cheek and brow; And time could heal a hurt, they said, And time could dim a vow.

_Light of Love_ Joy stayed with me a night-- Young and free and fair-- And in the morning light He left me there. Then Sorrow came to stay, And lay upon my breast; He walked with me in the day, And knew me best. I'll never be a bride, Nor yet celibate, So I'm living now with Pride-- A cold bedmate. He must not hear nor see, Nor could he forgive That Sorrow still visits me Each day I live. _Wail_ Love has gone a-rocketing. That is not the worst; I could do without the thing, And not be the first. Joy has gone the way it came. That is nothing new; I could get along the same,-- Many people do. Dig for me the narrow bed, Now I am bereft. All my pretty hates are dead, And what have I left? _The Satin Dress_ Needle, needle, dip and dart, Thrusting up and down, Where's the man could ease a heart Like a satin gown? See the stitches curve and crawl Round the cunning seams-- Patterns thin and sweet and small As a lady's dreams. Wantons go in bright brocades; Brides in organdie; Gingham's for the plighted maid; Satin's for the free! Wool's to line a miser's chest; Crape's to calm the old; Velvet hides an empty breast; Satin's for the bold! Lawn is for a bishop's yoke; Linen's for a nun; Satin is for wiser folk-- Would the dress were done! Satin glows in candle-light-- Satin's for the proud! They will say who watch at night, "What a fine shroud!" _Somebody's Song_ This is what I vow; He shall have my heart to keep; Sweetly will we stir and sleep, All the years, as now. Swift the measured sands may run; Love like this is never done; He and I are welded one: This is what I vow. This is what I pray: Keep him by me tenderly; Keep him sweet in pride of me, Ever and a day; Keep me from the old distress; Let me, for our happiness, Be the one to love the less: This is what I pray.

_Unfortunate Coincidence_ By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying-- Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying. _Verse Reporting Late Arrival at a Conclusion_ Consider a lady gone reckless in love, In novels and plays: You watch her proceed in a drapery of A roseate haze. Acclaimed as a riot, a wow, and a scream, She flies with her beau to les Alpes Maritimes, And moves in a mist of a mutual dream The rest of her days. In life, if you'll listen to one who has been Observant of such, A lady in love is more frequently in Decidedly Dutch. The thorn, so to say, is revealed by the rose. The best that she gets is a sock in the nose. These authors and playwrights, I'm forced to suppose, Don't get around much. _Inventory_ Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe. Four be the things I'd been better without: Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt. Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne. Three be the things I shall have till I die: Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye. _Now at Liberty_ Little white love, your way you've taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart's forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there's no returning; Once you go out, it's done, it's done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.) Little white love, perplexed and weary, Sadly your banner fluttered down. Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary. (Which of the boys is still in town?) Radiant and sure, you came a-flying; Puzzled, you left on lagging feet. Slow in my breast, my heart is dying. (Nevertheless, a girl must eat.) Little white love, I hailed you gladly; Now I must wave you out of sight.

_Unfortunate Coincidence_ By the time you swear you're his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying-- Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying. _Verse Reporting Late Arrival at a Conclusion_ Consider a lady gone reckless in love, In novels and plays: You watch her proceed in a drapery of A roseate haze. Acclaimed as a riot, a wow, and a scream, She flies with her beau to les Alpes Maritimes, And moves in a mist of a mutual dream The rest of her days. In life, if you'll listen to one who has been Observant of such, A lady in love is more frequently in Decidedly Dutch. The thorn, so to say, is revealed by the rose. The best that she gets is a sock in the nose. These authors and playwrights, I'm forced to suppose, Don't get around much. _Inventory_ Four be the things I am wiser to know: Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe. Four be the things I'd been better without: Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt. Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne. Three be the things I shall have till I die: Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye. _Now at Liberty_ Little white love, your way you've taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart's forsaken. (Whom shall I get by telephone?) Well do I know there's no returning; Once you go out, it's done, it's done. All of my days are gray with yearning. (Nevertheless, a girl needs fun.) Little white love, perplexed and weary, Sadly your banner fluttered down. Sullen the days, and dreary, dreary. (Which of the boys is still in town?) Radiant and sure, you came a-flying; Puzzled, you left on lagging feet. Slow in my breast, my heart is dying. (Nevertheless, a girl must eat.) Little white love, I hailed you gladly; Now I must wave you out of sight. Ah, but you used me badly, badly. (Who'd like to take me out to-night?) All of the blundering words I've spoken, Little white love, forgive, forgive.