My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He’ll tread his galloping rigadoon In the pathway of the morrows. He’ll live his days where the sunbeams start, Nor could storm or wind uproot him. My own dear love, he is all my heart, — And I wish...
Four be the things I’d have been better without: love, curiosity, freckles and doubt.
Inventory:”Four be the things I am wiser to know:Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.Four be the things I’d been better without:Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.Three be the things I shall never attain:Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.Three be the things I shall have till I die:Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.
And if my heart be scarred and burned,The safer, I, for all I learned.
Little WordsWhen you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf,Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds;And I can only stare, and shape my griefIn little words.I cannot conjure loveliness, to drownThe bitter woe that racks my cords apart.The weary pen that sets my sorrow downFeeds at my heart.There is no mercy in the...
MenThey hail you as their morning starBecause you are the way you are.If you return the sentiment,They’ll try to make you different;And once they have you, safe and sound,They want to change you all around.Your moods and ways they put a curse on;They’d make of you another person.They cannot let you go your gait;They influence...
I won’t telephone him. I’ll never telephone him again as long as I live. He’ll rot in hell, before I’ll call him up. You don’t have to give me strength, God; I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I’m waiting here. He’s so...
It serves me right for putting all my eggs in one bastard.
Three be the things I shall never attain: Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.
A Very Short Song Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse.
Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric of their friendship.
The sun’s gone dim, and the moon’s gone black. For I loved him, and he didn’t love back.
But I give you my word, in the entire book there is nothing that cannot be said aloud in mixed company. And there is, also, nothing that makes you a bit the wiser. I wonder–oh, what will you think of me–if those two statements do not verge upon the synonymous.
The cure for boredom is curiosity.There is no cure for curiosity.
Where’s the man that could ease a heart like a satin gown?
If you have any young friends who aspire to become writers, the second greatest favor you can do them is to present them with copies of The Elements of Style. The first greatest, of course, is to shoot them now, while they’re happy.
I require three things in a man: he must be handsome, ruthless, and stupid.
God, the bitter misery that reading works into this world! Everybody knows that – everbody who IS everybody. All the best minds have been off reading for years. Look at the swing La Rouchefoucauld took at it. He said that if nobody had ever learned to read, very few people would be in love. Good...
I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.
I shudder at the thought of men….I’m due to fall in love again
The TriflerDeath’s the lover that I’d be taking;Wild and fickle and fierce is he.Small’s his care if my heart be breaking-Gay young Death would have none of me.Hear them clack of my haste to greet him!No one other my mouth had kissed.I had dressed me in silk to meet him-False young Death would not hold...
Take me or leave me; or, as is the usual order of things, both.
Ducking for apples — change one letter and it’s the story of my life.
I don’t know,” she said. “We used to squabble a lot when we were going together and then engaged and everything, but I thought everything would be so different as soon as you were married. And now I feel so sort of strange and everything. I feel so sort of alone.