The only thing worse than a liar is a liar that’s also a hypocrite!
The human animal is a beast that dies but the fact that he’s dying don’t give him pity for others.
There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you kill yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors.
You are the only young man that I know of who ignores the fact that the future becomes the present, the present the past, and the past turns into everlasting regret if you don’t plan for it.
The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.
At the age of fourteen I discovered writing as an escape from a world of reality in which I felt acutely uncomfortable.
All good art is an indiscretion.
I try to work every day because you have no refuge but writing. When you’re going through a period of unhappiness, a broken love affair, the death of someone you love, or some other disorder in your life, then you have no refuge but writing.
Security is a kind of death.
The object of art is to make eternal the desperately fleeting moment.
Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too.
I am more faithful than I intended to be!
You see, baby, after a glass or two of wine I’m inclined to extravagance.
America has only three cities: New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans. Everywhere else is Cleveland.
Oh, you can’t describe someone you’re in love with!
Bohemia has no banner. It survives by discretion.
I don’t believe anyone ever suspects how completely unsure I am of my work and myself and what tortures of self-doubting the doubt of others has always given me.
The name of a person you love is more than language.
I can’t expose a human weakness on the stage unless I know it through having it myself.
The violets in the mountains have broken the rocks.