Dorothy Parker bot
There were two things that would always bewilder her, she said: how a zipper worked and the exact function of Bernard Baruch.
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Telegram sent to two friends who had been living together and then got married:
"WHAT'S NEW?"
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Words of Comfort to be Scratched on a Mirror
Helen of Troy had a wandering glance;
Sappho's restriction was only the sky;
Ninon was ever the chatter of France;
But oh, what a good girl am I!
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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.
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As far as I'm concerned, the most beautiful word in the English language is "cellar-door".
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It's not the tragedies that trick us. It's the messes. I can't stand messes.
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Telegram to an actress who finally had her baby after many carefully contrived appearances during her long pregnancy:
"GOOD WORK. WE ALL KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU."
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To a neighbour who tolder her her dog was a female:
"I always call dogs 'he'. It don't do to notice everything."
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Of her second husband:
"Oh, don't worry about Alan. Alan will always land on somebody's feet."
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On hearing the door bell or telephone ringing:
"What fresh hell is this?"
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