Ten lines for Dorothy Parker

How can you make anything much pretty when you don’t absolutely despise ugliness? When you don’t just hate it, want to tell it to walk to Cleveland

on a springless, pointed pogo stick, get some kind of nasty cancer and die? So you can’t, and they think they can, but this only grinds into your grin:

bitterness is not a sort of sunshine, though it’s just as bad for the skin.