Author: Dorothy Parker

This book of essays… has all the depth and glitter of a worn dime.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

“House Beautiful” is the play lousy.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Tell him I’ve been too f**king busy – or vice versa.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

He has a heart of gold… only harder.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Brevity is the soul of lingerie.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

A little bad taste is like a nice dash of paprika.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Because he spills his seed on the ground.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Good work, Mary: We all knew you had it in you.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Outspoken? By whom?

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly; it should be thrown with great force.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

I went into the Plymouth Theater a comparatively young woman, and I staggered out of it three hours later, twenty years older, haggard and broken with suffering.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

The two most beautiful words in the English language are “check enclosed.”

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

This wasn't just plain terrible, this was fancy terrible, this was terrible with raisins in it.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

One more drink and I'd be under the host.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

I don't care what is written about me so long as it isn't true.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

A lady… with all the poise of the Sphinx though but little of her mystery.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

How could they tell?

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet

Do me a favor; when you get home, throw your mother a bone.

(1893 – 1967) writer, humorist & poet