Quotes from Bret Easton Ellis

You are a fucking ugly bitch I want to stab to death and play around with your blood," but I'm smiling.

Did I do this on purpose? What do you think? Or did I do this accidentally?

did another line and believed him because it is easier to move through the motions than not to.

Hardbody." McDermott nods in agreement. "Definitely." "I'm not impressed," Price sniffs. "Look at her knees." While the hardbody stands there we check her out, and though her knees do support long, tan legs, I can't help noticing that one knee is, admittedly, bigger than the other one. The left knee is knobbier, almost imperceptibly thicker than the right knee and this unnoticeable flaw now seems overwhelming and we all lose interest.

I passed what I thought was a Halloween parade, which was disorienting since I was fairly sure this was May. When I stopped on the corner of Sixteenth Street and made a closer inspection it turned out to be something called a "Gay Pride Parade," which made my stomach turn.

I can't disagree. I laugh weakly, walking him to the door. As he leaves I'm wondering and not wondering what happens in the world of Tim Price, which is really the world of most of us: big ideas, guy stuff, boy meets the world, boy gets it.

While walking back to the highway I stop, choke back a sob, my throat tightens. I just want to... Facing the skyline, through all the baby talk, I murmur, keep the game going. As I stand, frozen in position, an old woman emerges behind a Threepenny Opera poster at a deserted bus stop and she's homeless and begging, hobbling over, her face covered with sores that look like bugs, holding out a shaking red hand. Oh will you please go away? I sigh. She tells me to get a haircut.

He wasn't, I realized when I read those scenes concerning Blair and myself, close to any of us-- except of course to Blair, and really not even to her. He was simply someone who floated through our lives and didn't seem to care how flatly he perceived everyone or that he'd shared our secret failures with the world, showcasing the youthful indifference, the gleaming nihilism, glamorizing the horror of it all. But there was no point in being angry with him.

Did you know I was born in a Holiday Inn.

Confusion and hopelessness don't necessarily cause a person to act.

Dwelling over this loss while wandering down Central Park West somewhere around Seventy-sixth, Seventy-fifth, it strikes me profoundly that the world is more often than not a bad and cruel place.

Something is turning into nothing very quickly

You can disappear here without knowing it.

How could she ever understand that there isn't any way I could be disappointed since I no longer find anything worth looking forward to?

El pasado no es real. Sólo es un sueño.

The Patty Winters Show this morning was about Nazis and, inexplicably, I got a real charge out of watching it. Though I wasn't exactly charmed by their deeds, I didn't find them unsympathetic either, nor I might add did most of the members of the audience. One of the Nazis, in a rare display of humor, even juggled grapefruits and, delighted, I sat up in bed and clapped.

I guess the consolation is that she's not going to be beautiful forever, he says. But I'd like to be with her before that happens.

I don't want to care. If I care about things, it'll just be worse, it'll just be another thing to worry about. It's less painful if I don't care.

Descansado, he tells me. What does that mean? Descansado, Rip says. It means 'take it easy,' he whispers, clutching the child next to him. Yeah? It means relax.

Why not?" she asks petulantly. "Give me one good reason we shouldn't." "Because trying to fuck you is like trying to French-kiss a very … small and … lively gerbil?" I tell her. "I don't know." "Yes?" she says. "And?" "With braces?" I finish, shrugging.

I concluded with an aching finality that the could-happen possibilities were gone, and that doing whatever you wanted was over. The future didn't exist anymore. Everything was in the past and would stay there.

On my way over to Park Avenue to find a cab I pass an ugly, homeless bum-- a member of the genetic underclass-- and when he softly pleads for change, for anything, I noticed the Barnes & Noble book bag that sits next to him on the steps of the church he's begging on and I can't help but smirk, out loud, Oh right, like YOU read...

I have to return some videos

The Patty Winters Shows were all repeats. Life remained a blank canvas, a cliche, a soap opera. I felt lethal, on the verge of frenzy. My nightly bloodlust overflowed into my days and I had to leave the city. My mask of sanity was a victim of impending slippage. This was bone season for me and I needed a vacation. I needed to go to the Hamptons.