You love the life you've lived because it is yours.
Writing! The activity for which the only adequate bribe is the possibility of suicide, one day.
Why you can't trust women. Even young girls. Can't know what the fuck they are thinking, can't know what they are feeling, can't know how they will surprise you except to know it won't be a surprise y...
Why is it when I'm inside this stone house I've come to love I can't remember what it looks like from the outside. And when I'm outside I can't remember what it looks like on the inside.Why is it I ke...
When you give up struggle, there's a kind of love.
When he was three years old Jackie ran into the house crying. I asked, What's happened? What's wrong?He showed me his bleeding hand - the palm of his hand had been scraped.How did you do that? It isn'...
What was most striking about the portrait of Jane, Countess of Harrington was the aura of confidence it exuded – not merely the figure of the beautifully composed young noblewoman, her slender face se...
Three days later on October 29, 1959, the Pontiac registered in the name of Niles Tignor would be discovered, gas tank near-empty, keys on the floorboards beneath the front seat, in a parking lot clos...
The heavenly light you admire is fossil-light, it's the unfathomably distant past you gaze into, stars long extinct
The hat-check girl wore her hair in a schoolgirl pageboy so you were meant to think of Dorothy Collins – all innocence, wide-eyed and breathless – but this was mock-innocent and she knew her business,...
The fundamental truth of my life whether in fact it was truth or a burlesque of truth: when a man wants you, you’re safe.
The fact was that the woman lived the life she chose, she was happy in that life and it was no one's business after all but her own, my uncle's face darkening with blood as he spoke, my mother's fair...
The challenge is, to live in a house from which meaning has departed, like air leaking from a balloon. A slow leak, yet lethal. And one day, the balloon is flat: it is not a balloon any longer. By
Suicide is in fact a consoling thought. Suicide is the secret door by which you can exit the world at any time—it’s wholly up to you. For who can prevent you, if suicide is truly your wish? Who has th...
So we invent reasons for the unreasonable. We are rationalists of the irrational. It
She wasn't in love but she would love him, if that would save her.
She had no existence, in herself. From earliest childhood she had believed this. Rather she was a reflecting surface, reflecting others' perception of her, and love of her.
Secrets of the adult universe, forbidden for children to know: how beauty and suffering are intertwined.
Relief is happiness for those who, otherwise, would have no happiness.
Out of obscurity I came. To obscurity I can return.