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#Dorothy Parker
apoemaday · 7 days
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But Not Forgotten
by Dorothy Parker
I think, no matter where you stray, That I shall go with you a way. Though you may wander sweeter lands, You will not soon forget my hands, Nor yet the way I held my head, Nor all the tremulous things I said. You still will see me, small and white And smiling, in the secret night, And feel my arms about you when The day comes fluttering back again. I think, no matter where you be, You’ll hold me in your memory And keep my image, there without me, By telling later loves about me.
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derangedrhythms · 10 months
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I am hung with graveyard flowers.
Dorothy Parker, Enough Rope; from 'Rainy Night'
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Source: Dorothy Parker FB
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milquetoast-zeitgeist · 10 months
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typewriter-worries · 1 year
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maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you’re at your worst
On Political(ized) Life, Kanika Lawton | Corner Table, Joseph Lorusso | Giovanni's Room, James Baldwin | Embrace, Peter Wever | Jonathan Carroll | We've Got Each Other, Ron Hicks | Rondeau Redoublé, Dorothy Parker
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austinkleon · 4 months
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Dorothy Parker.
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cantsayidont · 3 months
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April 1994. His will sapped by a magic spell, Superman spurns both Lois and Batman for the Silver Banshee in Book 3 of the LEGENDS OF THE WORLD'S FINEST miniseries. Batman is, to borrow a phrase from Dorothy Parker, not tossed aside lightly, but thrown with great force.
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davidhudson · 8 months
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Dorothy Parker, August 22, 1893 – June 7, 1967.
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LIFE, April 8, 1926
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Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses.
- Dorothy Parker
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apoemaday · 7 months
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Temps Perdu
by Dorothy Parker
I never may turn the loop of a road Where sudden, ahead, the sea is lying, But my heart drags down with an ancient load-- My heart, that a second before was flying.
I never behold the quivering rain-- And sweeter the rain than a lover to me-- But my heart is wild in my breast with pain; My heart, that was tapping contentedly.
There’s never a rose spreads new at my door Nor a strange bird crosses the moon at night But I know I have known its beauty before, And a terrible sorrow along with the sight.
The look of a laurel tree birthed for May Or a sycamore bared for a new November Is as old and as sad as my furtherest day-- What is it, what is it, I almost remember?
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derangedrhythms · 10 months
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Dorothy Parker, Enough Rope; from 'Threnody'
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newyorkthegoldenage · 7 months
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Jimmy hobnobs with royalty: Romania's Queen Marie, with Mayor Walker on her arrival in New York, October 18, 1926, as she started her extended journey across America.
The queen is immortalized in Dorothy Parker's well-known ditty:
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea, And love is a thing that can never go wrong, And I am Marie of Romania.
Photo: Associated Press
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sageandscorpiongrass · 8 months
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Recurrence, Dorothy Parker
I'm just really fond of the rhythm of this one.
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typewriter-worries · 11 months
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Love Song, Dorothy Parker
[ Text ID: My love runs by like a day in June, ]
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cinematic-literature · 3 months
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Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018) by Marielle Heller
Book title: The Portable Dorothy Parker (1983)
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