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Crybaby Cry

Thursday, March 20, 2008

To her who had laughed so much, crying was delicious. All sorrows became her sorrows; She was Tenderness. She would cry long and softly over newspaper accounts of kidnapped babies, deserted wives, unemployed men, strayed cats, heroic dogs. Even when the paper was no longer before her, her mind revolved upon these things and the drops slipped rhythmically over her plump cheeks.
—Dorothy Parker Big Blonde

Love,
The Letter A

11:07 PM

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