Quotes from Donna Tartt

Priceless. I rolled to face the wall. The recovered Rembrandt had been valued at forty million. But forty million was still a price.

And besides (I told myself) wasn't it time to Move Forward, Let Go, turn from the garden that was locked to me? Live In The Present, Focus On The Now instead of grieving for what I could never have?

La belleza es terror. Temblamos ante todo lo que llamamos bello.

Here is my experience. Stay away from the ones you love too much. Those are the ones who will kill you

And the daughter . Bit of a social failure. Well, that's putting it delicately. Quite overweight. Collects the cats, if you know what I mean.

Butthole," he sobbed.

fact it seemed we had been doing things, such as stringing necklaces of rainbow-colored candy while the radio played Belle and Sebastian

arid room—all

Usually we lay around on the grass all afternoon, drinking martinis from a thermos bottle and watching the ants crawl in a glittering black thread on the messy cake plate, until finally the martinis ran out, and the sun went down, and we had to straggle home for dinner in the dark.

love more binding than physical affection, some tar-pit of the soul where I might flop around and malinger for years.

La línea de la belleza no cambia por mucho que haya pasado cientos de veces por una fotocopiadora.

That life—whatever else it is—is short. That fate is cruel but maybe not random. That Nature (meaning Death) always wins but that doesn't mean we have to bow and grovel to it.

As the night wore on (phosphorescent in the streetlamps, violet city midnights that never quite faded to black) I turned from side to side, the low ceiling over the bunk pressing down on me so heavily that sometimes I woke convinced I was lying underneath the bed instead of on top of it.

And—maybe it's ridiculous to go on in this vein, although it doesn't matter since no one's ever going to see this—but does it make any sense at all to know that it ends badly for all of us, even the happiest

The illogic of it frightened them and they did everything they could to crush it. In fact, I think the reason they took such drastic steps was because they were not only frightened but also terribly attracted to it.

happiest of us, and that we all lose everything that matters in the end—and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy?

and yet isn't it always the inappropriate thing, the thing that doesn't quite work, that's oddly the dearest?

Well—let's put it another way. Who was it said that coincidence was just God's way of remaining anonymous?

Why am I made the way I am? Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones?»

Dunno, Don't know how to spell it. I mean'- he made a picture frame with his hands- 'the poet and the fisherman. Parfait. Boon companions. Out in the open spaces. Living the good life. Metahemeralism's gotta be the glue here see?

I knew it deeply and irrationally like knowledge in a dream.

It had been a conscious decision to pull free. It had taken everything I had to do it, like an animal gnawing a limb off to escape a trap.

Very softly—so softly I could barely hear her—I heard the girl whisper: "It had to live its whole life like that?" I'd been wondering the same thing;

even if we're not always so glad to be here, it's our task to immerse ourselves anyway: wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and hearts open.