I want to tell you that I love you I want to tell you that I love you I want to tell you that I love I love I love I love but you do not.
Strange: how when a light is extinguished, it’s immediately as if it has never been. Darkness fills in again, complete.
Much of my writing is energized by unresolved memories – something like ghosts in the psychological sense.
How lawyers make work for one another! You’re all priests, worshipping the same god. No wonder you adore one another.
I’m sure all that you’ve heard is just the usual gossip, invented to injure feelings rather than illuminate truth.
The danger of motherhood. you relive your early self, through the eyes of your mother.
Only in love is there trust – even the possibility of trust.
For what are the words with which to summarize a lifetime, so much crowded confused happiness terminated by such stark slow-motion pain?
Society is the picnic certain individuals leave early, the party they fail to enjoy, the musical comedy they find not worth the price of admission.
The great happiness in life in creativity belongs to amateurs.
It feels good, honey, but it isn’t love.
I love insult, it’s always honest.
The denial of language is a suicidal one and we pay for it with our own lives.
Paradox: how do we know what we have failed to see because we have no language to express it, thus we cannot know that we have failed to see it.
You don’t have to understand why anything that has happened nor do you even have to understand what it is that has happened. You have only to live with the remains.
In a family, what isn’t spoken is what you listen for. But the noise of a family is to drown it out.
An actress wants to be seen. An actress wants to be loved. By multitudes of people, not just one lone man.
One man’s insanity is another man’s genius; someday the world will recognize the genius in my insanity.
Memory blurs, that’s the point. If memory didn’t blur you wouldn’t have the fool’s courage to do things again, again, again, that tear you apart.
Betrayal is the deepest wound. Betrayal is what remains of love, when love has gone.