ELIZABETH Taylor may soon be reading in print things she wishes she hadn't said, or doesn't remember saying.

At the Redskins-Dallas game a week ago, after imbibing, she was huddled in earnest conversation with an unidentified male reporter within hearing distance of seven or eight other people.

Every other statement out of her mouth was "no quotes, now" . . . "not for attribution."

Her husband, Virginia Sen. John Warner, kept trying unsuccessfully to get her to come back to watching the game.

" -- him!" Mrs. Warner said loudly, referring to her husband. "I'm having fun."

Other guests in the VIP owners' box during the scene reported that Mrs. Warner's much publicized recent weight-loss at that Florida health spa has now been regained.

National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski, working late at the White House on Monday night, sent for a carry-out dinner for himself and a guest.

Not Chinese and not Kentucky Fried Chicken. An aide called Sans Souci and had Pierre send veal, a salad with expensive French mushrooms and apple tarts.

Wine was declined with the explanation that "Zbig" had to keep a clear head in the midst of the Iranian crisis.

On Tuesday, Pierre went back to fetch the dirty dishes and had so much fun preparinga his historic crisis picnic that he declined to send a bill.

English playwright Tom Stoppard, here in the U.S. for the opening of his "Night and Day," agreed to speak to students at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore last week because he considered their offer of $2,500 for an hour of his time "very generous."

But it was not generous enough, he said, for him to include having lunch with the university president while he was on campus. He would have "nothing to say" to any university president, he protested, no matter how much money was involved.

It isn't going to be hard to find Sen. Edward M. (Ted) Kennedy's (D-Mass.) house on Chain Bridge Road in McLean, even though the numbered mailbox has been removed.

In its place is a Secret Service sentry post with bulletproof glass. It's the only house in the neighborhood that has one. And across the road is parked a big, black Secret Service limousine.

It's not another "Mommie Dearest," say friends, because "Mommie" isn't going to come off that badly. But some of "Mommie's" old friends and enemies, if they aren't already dead, may wish they were.

Harriet Parsons, daughter of Louella, and repository of confidences and confidential files, is writing a book about those Hollywood heydays.

A couple of years ago, television's Rona Barrett reported that former U.S. Ambassador to Great Britain Walter Annenberg was selling his private resort-sized compound in Palm Springs. It was denied.

Now, Annenberg's neighbors are calling each other over new rumblings on the real-estate grapevine. Some sources claim that Annenberg has not forgiven city officials for refusing to allow the shah of Iran to take refuge behind those high stuccoed walls.

Meanwhile, the Annenbergs are back for the beginning of the social season and had dinner with Frank and Barbara Sinatra the other night and everyone is waiting to see if a "Sold" sign goes up on the front lawn.

For those who care about the current "A" list and the "Z" list of who's in and out at "The Springs," the Agnews are reportedly living a very private existence, hardly going anywhere.