Weetzie and My Secret Agent Lover Man and Dirk and Duck and Cherokee and Witch Baby and Slinkster Dog and Go-Go Girl and the puppies Pee Wee, Wee Wee, Teenie Wee, Tiki Tee, and Tee Pee were driving down Hollywood Boulevard on their way to the Tick Tock Tea Room for turkey platters.
You’ll have to take me to some museums,” he said. He was being the young man on the road, following the sun because gray weather made him suicidal, writing his poetry in his mind in diners and gas station men’s rooms across the country.
Like Beauty. But she only pricked her finger. I had a spindle through my heart.
Love, that elusive leading lady, plays too many parts to be typecast.
Hopefully, when you are young, you discover something called love, which is really just another name for going home.
What else was filmmmaking about if not a series of perfect and potent images strung together like the words of a poem?
He slid his hands around behind me and placed his fingers on my shoulder blades, touching the bones reverently, as if he had discovered wings.
Find the goddess inside yourself instead of looking for the god in someone else.
I want to be untouchable and beautiful and completely dead inside.
Metaphors are an interesting example of creating magic in prose.
The girl in the mirror wasn’t who I wanted to be and her life wasn’t the one I wanted to have.
No matter how bad things get, you can always see the beauty in them. The worse things get, the more you have to make yourself see the magic in order to survive.
Magic can be found in stolen moments.
You are so intense. Like a storm. It’s shocking how intense you are.
Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.
He said that black sheeps express everyone else’s anger and pain. It’s not that they have all the anger and pain-they’re just the only ones who let it out. Then the other people don’t have to.
My mother says that pain is hidden in everyone you see. She says try to imagine it like big bunches of flowers that everyone is carrying around with them. Think of your pain like a big bunch of red roses, a beautiful thorn necklace. Everyone has one.
It seems impossible that you can love one person so much, no matter what happens, no matter what they do.
You are my Marilyn. You are my lake full of fishes. You are my sky set, my ‘Hollywood in Miniature,’ my pink Cadillac, my highway, my martini, the stage for my heart to rock and roll on, the screen where my movies light up.
Beauty loved him more than anything, her Beast boy, but, secretly, sometimes, she wished he would have remained a Beast.