You Can Lead a Horticulture,

but you can’t make her think.

It’s Dorothy Parker’s birthday! 

A friend likes to tell me that if I stick around long enough, I show great promise of becoming every bit as bitter an old broad. I’m sure you do too.

So have a martini, on us, and a poem, on Dorothy.

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please,
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.

But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!

–D. Parker

NB this is also the motto of my love life. Explains a bit, no?

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2 thoughts on “You Can Lead a Horticulture,

  1. Here’s my Dorothy Parker anecdote for you:

    ‘Meanwhile, the New Yorker kept going downhill. From an original runoff of fifteen thousand copies in February, its circulation fell to a pernicious-anemia low of twenty-seven hundred copies in August. One evening, during that summer of Harold Ross’s greatest discontent, the harried editor ran into Dorothy Parker somewhere. “I thought you were coming into the office to write a piece last week,” he said. “What happened?” Mrs. Parker turned upon him the eloquent magic of her dark and lovely eyes. “Somebody was using the pencil,” she explained sorrowfully.’

    –James Thurber, The Years With Ross

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