I should be doing something else right now:
There are at least seventy-five more choice quotes
from Selected Letters of DAWN POWELL
from Selected Letters of DAWN POWELL
that need to be filed as a "book report"
but I am feeling too damn lazy.
but I am feeling too damn lazy.
So the compromise is to post pictures
of pages from the book...
of pages from the book...
Read and enjoy...
But after compromise, there is action.
Laziness has gone out the window
and select words knock
at the door:
and select words knock
at the door:
“Yes I know I have the name of an unsuccessful stripper. It is my strong suit”...Our stuff sticks out like an apple on a pear tree...If I have ugly babies, I am going to kill them. Unless they happen to have a rich father...Let us be merry and remember the people in the world who are happy because they are not Educated Up to Their Misery.
It must be embarassing to them to...There I went and spelled embarassing with one r. I don’t like two r’s in that word. It is not right for one word to have two sets of doubles...Powellisms= worruld//peticklers//yestiddy//frinstanz//puffick deah//Amuricca//favver//leberwurst...Jojo: Yun-ny Fommy= uniform//I must foller him. It pizzles me//Schadenfreudenstein.
After he’s through [newborn Jo-Jo punching his mother], he throws his arm over my breast with an air of “I may be through now but it’s mine and nobody else can have it when I don’t want it”...I know this letter doesn’t sound a bit like me but my brain is so lousy. I guess I’ll have to pump it out and fill it up with glue. Then I’d always know where the glue was.
“Mrs. Gousha (nee Dawn Powell) has the honor to tell Mr. Gousha (knee Most Adorable) that on the evening of Monday, June 21, 1926, promptly at 10:59 Alarm Clock time she loves him R.S.V.P. (Ring Soon Very Prompt)”... Footnote: It is more than likely that by this time she had begun an affair with radical playwright...“I want to tell you all these things because even if we live a hundred years life is still too short to say the truth in.”
The only way to bear living is to not to have things mean anything to you...Any vagabonding they ever did was about as light and charming as Lizzie Borden’s coquettishly peeping over the handle of her axe...The vice is the incorrigible one of the church supper–the starving Chinese, the ragged prisoner of war, the orphan can only be helped by as many people as possible putting on their minks and sables and eating more than they want.
The pure fictional parts are far better than when I was fascinated mistakenly by facts...The only way
It must be embarassing to them to...There I went and spelled embarassing with one r. I don’t like two r’s in that word. It is not right for one word to have two sets of doubles...Powellisms= worruld//peticklers//yestiddy//frinstanz//puffick deah//Amuricca//favver//leberwurst...Jojo: Yun-ny Fommy= uniform//I must foller him. It pizzles me//Schadenfreudenstein.
After he’s through [newborn Jo-Jo punching his mother], he throws his arm over my breast with an air of “I may be through now but it’s mine and nobody else can have it when I don’t want it”...I know this letter doesn’t sound a bit like me but my brain is so lousy. I guess I’ll have to pump it out and fill it up with glue. Then I’d always know where the glue was.
“Mrs. Gousha (nee Dawn Powell) has the honor to tell Mr. Gousha (knee Most Adorable) that on the evening of Monday, June 21, 1926, promptly at 10:59 Alarm Clock time she loves him R.S.V.P. (Ring Soon Very Prompt)”... Footnote: It is more than likely that by this time she had begun an affair with radical playwright...“I want to tell you all these things because even if we live a hundred years life is still too short to say the truth in.”
The only way to bear living is to not to have things mean anything to you...Any vagabonding they ever did was about as light and charming as Lizzie Borden’s coquettishly peeping over the handle of her axe...The vice is the incorrigible one of the church supper–the starving Chinese, the ragged prisoner of war, the orphan can only be helped by as many people as possible putting on their minks and sables and eating more than they want.
The pure fictional parts are far better than when I was fascinated mistakenly by facts...The only way
I can face any human responsibility is by not facing it, but this I have to do now and it scares the wits out of me...It was a fine thing when people did not let you know them too well or refused to know you too well. human relationships were better on a tantalizing scale.
Describing her new novel: The Locusts Have No King...How did I come to mention a minor figure first? Or the love interest? Probably due to six or seven generations of patent medicine flowing through my veins that makes me point out the chocolate flavor instead of the tonic itself...My novels are based on the fantastic designs made by real human beings earnestly laboring to maladjust themselves to fate...They are not slaves to the author’s propaganda. I give them their heads.
Describing her new novel: The Locusts Have No King...How did I come to mention a minor figure first? Or the love interest? Probably due to six or seven generations of patent medicine flowing through my veins that makes me point out the chocolate flavor instead of the tonic itself...My novels are based on the fantastic designs made by real human beings earnestly laboring to maladjust themselves to fate...They are not slaves to the author’s propaganda. I give them their heads.
They furnish their own nooses.
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