Dorothy Parker Quotes
Monday, June 4, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
“Heterosexuality is not normal, it's just common.”
"It's a small apartment, I've barely enough room to lay a hat and a few friends."
Dorothy Parker in her own voice ... scroll down past the videos to hear her read (you'll need RealPlayer):
http://www.dorothyparker.com/dotaudio.htm
"Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves."
After terminating an unwanted pregnancy:
"It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard.
"It's a small apartment, I've barely enough room to lay a hat and a few friends."
Dorothy Parker in her own voice ... scroll down past the videos to hear her read (you'll need RealPlayer):
http://www.dorothyparker.com/dotaudio.htm
"Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of themselves."
After terminating an unwanted pregnancy:
"It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard.
Monday, May 7, 2012
In 1939, Dorothy Parker wrote about her social conscience in a piece called "Not Enough." Here's the opening ...
I think I knew first what side I was on when I was about five years old, at which time nobody was safe from buffaloes. It was in a brownstone house in New York, and there was a blizzard, and my rich aunt--a horrible woman then and now--had come to visit. I remember going to the window and seeing the street with the men shoveling snow; their hands were purple on their shovels, and their feet were wrapped with burlap. And my aunt, looking over her shoulder, said, "Now isn't this nice that there's this blizzard. Now all those men have work." And I knew then that it was not nice that men could work for their lives only in desperate weather, that there was no work for them in fair. That was when I became anti-fascist, at the silky tones of my rich and comfortable aunt.
I think I knew first what side I was on when I was about five years old, at which time nobody was safe from buffaloes. It was in a brownstone house in New York, and there was a blizzard, and my rich aunt--a horrible woman then and now--had come to visit. I remember going to the window and seeing the street with the men shoveling snow; their hands were purple on their shovels, and their feet were wrapped with burlap. And my aunt, looking over her shoulder, said, "Now isn't this nice that there's this blizzard. Now all those men have work." And I knew then that it was not nice that men could work for their lives only in desperate weather, that there was no work for them in fair. That was when I became anti-fascist, at the silky tones of my rich and comfortable aunt.
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