Ninon De Lenclos, On Her Last Birthday
So let me have the rouge again,
And comb my hair the curly way.
The poor young men, the dear young men
They'll all be here by noon today.
And I shall wear the blue, I think-
They beg to touch its rippled lace;
Or do they love me best in pink,
So sweetly flattering the face?
And are you sure my eyes are bright,
And is it true my cheek is clear?
Young what's-his-name stayed half the night;
He vows to cut his throat, poor dear!
So bring my scarlet slippers, then,
And fetch the powder-puff to me.
The dear young men, the poor young men-
They think I'm only seventy!
Dorothy Parker
She said
A woman's resistance to a man’s advances is not always a sign of virtue.
Sometimes it’s just a sign of experience.
but she also said
If God had to give a woman wrinkles, He might at least have put them on the soles of her feet.
Men lose more conquests by their own awkwardness than by any virtue in the woman.
Love never dies of starvation, but often of indigestion.
I cherish her joyful spirit and her love of life:A man is given the choice between loving women and understanding them.
Today a new sun rises for me; everything lives, everything is animated,
everything seems to speak to me of my passion,
everything invites me to cherish it.
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