Like I just said on the bookblog, I found out via Mammadamen (thanks!) that The Paris Review have put some of their interviews with significant authors online, amongst them Dorothy Parker, and who doesn’t love Dorothy?
So I thought it fitting to post a little poem of hers, despite it being almost impossible to choose which one. Here’s to you, on a Friday:
Neither Bloody Nor Bowed
They say of me, and so they should,
It’s doubtful if I come to good.
I see acquaintances and friends
And making enviable names
In science, art, and parlor games.
But I, despite expert advice,
Keep doing things I think are nice,
And though to good I never come-
Inseparable my nose and thumb!
— Dorothy Parker