Quotes from Bret Easton Ellis

My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone.

I'm on the verge of tears by the time we arrive at Pastels since I'm positive we won't get seated but the table is good, and relief that is almost tidal in scope washes over me in an awesome wave.

You don't know what torture is. You don't know what you're talking about. You really don't know what you're talking about.

There is no time for the innocent.

I needed something--the distraction of another life--to alleviate fear.

And as the elevator descents, passing the second floor, and the first floor, going even father down, I realize that the money doesn't matter. That all that does is that I want to see the worst

Baby, Andy once said that beauty is a sign of intelligence.' She turns slowly to look at me. 'Who, Victor? Who? Andy who?' She coughs, blowing her nose. 'Andy Kaufman? Andy Griffith? Who in the hell told you this? Andy Rooney?' 'Warhol,' I say softly, hurt. 'Baby...

I've been accused of being very vain about my apathy.

What? Did we end up hating each other? Did we end up the way we thought we always knew would? Did I end up wearing khakis because of that fucking ad?

You should never mistake affection for … passion

About a week ago I was sitting in L.A.'s chicest nightclub with a few friends and the DJ was playing Yaz and Bowie and the videos were on and I was on my third gin and tonic and I realized that no matter where I am it's always the same. Camden, New York, L.A., Palm Springs - it really doesn't seem to matter. Maybe this should be disturbing but it's really not. I find it kind of comforting.

My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage.

If all of your friends are morons is it a felony, a misdemeanor or an act of God if you blow their fucking heads off with a thirty-eight magnum?

This isn't a script, Julian says. It's not going to add up. Not everything's going to come together in the third act.

You're a beautiful boy, Clay, but that's about it.

Hello, Halberstam, Owen says, walking by. Hello, Owen, I say, admiring the way he's styled and slicked back his hair, with a part so even and sharp it... devastates me and I make a mental note to ask him where he purchases his hair-care products, which kind of mousse he uses, my final guesses after mulling over the possibilities being Ten-X.

A vast and abandoned world laid out in anonymous grids and quadrants, a view that confirmed you were much more alone than you thought you were, a view that inspired the flickering thoughts of suicide.

I'm also staring at the fortune cookie. Its got a lot of blood on it and I shrug and say, as jovially as I can, Oh, you know me.

I want to moan and writhe with you and I want to go up to you and kiss your mouth and pull you to me and say I love you I love you I love you while stripping. I want you so bad it stings.

I want to go back, Daniel says, quietly, with effort. Where? I ask, unsure. There's a long pause that kind of freaks me out and Daniel finishes his drink and fingers the sunglasses he's still wearing and says, I don't know. Just back.

Why was I holding on to something that would never be mine? (But isn't that what people do?)

Because the writer resented that she had turned to me I became the handsome and dazed narrator, incapable of love or kindness. That's how I became the damaged party boy who wandered through the wreckage, blood streaming from his nose, asking questions that never required answers. That's how I became the boy who never understood how anything worked. That's how I became the boy who wouldn't save a friend. That's how I became the boy who couldn't love the girl.

She sits before me, sullen but hopeful, characterless, about to dissolve into tears. I squeeze her hand back, moved, no, touched by her ignorance of evil. She has one more test to pass. Do you own a briefcase?" I ask her, swallowing.

And later my macabre joy sours and I'm weeping for myself, unable to find solace in any of this, crying out, sobbing, I just want to be loved, cursing the earth and everything I have been taught: principles, distinctions, choices, morals, compromises, knowledge, unity, prayer - all of it was wrong, without any final purpose.