So when I got through telling Dorothy what I thought up, Dorothy looked at me and looked at me and she really said she thought my brains were a miracle. I mean she said my brains reminded her of a radio because you listen to it for days and days and you get discouradged and just when you are getting ready to smash it, something comes out that is a masterpiece.
—Anita Loos (Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, p. 65)
* * *
A pleasant lazy Saturday on which I finally finish reading a few books and for a walk to return two inter-library loans (which I managed to read before their due dates) on which I encounter a yard with aggressively whimsical lawn ornaments that would baffle the canons of taste, should said canons show up to dispute the matter. No other amusement in the offing,1 I continue my stroll and complete my errands to leave the afternoon free for other idlenesses.
* * *
I mean sometimes Dorothy becomes Philosophical, and says something that really makes a girl wonder how anyone who can make such a Philosophical remark can waste her time like Dorothy does.
—Anita Loos (But Gentlemen Marry Brunettes, p. 131)
- Which, one discovers by the simple expedient of consulting a dictionary, is ‘[t]he part of the visible sea at a distance from the shore beyond anchorages or inshore navigational dangers’, along with other more figurative senses; thus have I broadened my horizons. I have not browsed in vain. [↩]