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More from Dorothy Parker

By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying –
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

Poets alone should kiss and tell.

"The Portable Dorothy Parker"

If, with the literate, I am
Impelled to try an epigram,
I never seek to take the credit;
We all assume Oscar said it.

Oscar Wilde

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 Roumania.

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Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.