Quotes from Tiffanie DeBartolo

We had pathetically simple dreams: to do meaningful work that we could be proud of, to be together, and to be happy. That certainly wasn't too much to ask.

Absorbing his words was like taking a drink of hot tea. They burned on the way down, but soothed my insides once they had time to cool off.

Fate is just another word for people's choices coming to a head. Destiny, coincidence, whatever you name it. It inevitably lies in our own hands.

I guess I need to find a happy medium, someplace between giving them what they want and ending up face-down in a pool of my own goddamn integrity.

So far, I've only discovered four things that make life worth living for me. My work is one of them." "What are the other three?" Jacob wanted to know. "Music, books, and sex," I said. "Not necessarily in that order." His eyebrows

Life is short and a man should take pride in his work, even if his work makes him feel like a total loser

Jacob would have rather looked out of place at the Ritz than look like he cared to fit in anywhere.

How does that goddamn cliché go? If I'd known then what I know now. Or maybe I should have heeded the opposite warning. Maybe I should have delved a little deeper into then back when I was wandering aimlessly around now.

Nobody,   and I mean  nobody,   ever started a revo-lution playing by the rules." 

Paul was the past and evoking the past was a worthless human ability that had evolved for the sole purpose of reminding mortals of their mistakes.

he asked me if I was happy. But before I had a chance to respond, he said, "Don't answer that. It's a stupid question. I don't believe in the myth of happiness any more than you do." This is where Paul had it wrong. I did believe in the myth. I had to. Otherwise I don't think I would have been there. Happiness is elusive, for sure. But like love, and music, I believed in it because I could feel it.

Days feel longer when you know there's something beyond the eternal here and now

Kat's idea of self-improvement is a good bikini wax.

Dawn makes a sound. If you listen closely, right as the sun starts to come up, you'll hear it. It's like the echo of birth: silence, followed by a gentle push, followed by moans, then the sloppy deluge of new life. On good days I like it because it reminds me that I'm alive. On bad days it makes me feel like dust.

But sometimes talent isn't worth shit. There are tons of talentless people out there making zillions of dollars. And unfortunately, an equal number of brilliant artists whose names and voices you'll never hear.

Jacob, if you want the milk, you have to buy the cow a meal.

Dawn makes a sound. If you listen closely, right as the sun starts to come up, you'll hear it. It's like the echo of birth: silence, followed by a gentle push, followed by moans, then the sloppy deluge of new life.

Remember this moment, my friend the tape recorder. Lying next to Eliza, I had the feeling I'd just found something I didn't even know I'd lost.

For what it's worth, I think happiness is a fleeting condition, not a permanent goddamn state of mind. I've learned that if you chase after moments of bliss here and there, sometimes those moments will sustain you through the shit." He paused to pick a piece of tobacco off his tongue. "Personally, I don't like inherently happy people. I don't trust them. I think there's something seriously wrong with anyone who isn't at least a little let down by the world.

Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog-Flavored Water.

The thing is, Harp, everyone is always one decision away from a completely different life.

Lying next to Eliza, I had the feeling I'd just found something I didn't even know I'd lost. We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds, until I said: "Don't swear off all fruit just because you ate one bad apple.

The mind was mankind's most painful torture chamber, the blessed liberty to cogitate offering either doom or salvation, depending on one's disposition. Even in my feeble mental state, I knew that any hope for survival hinged upon my ability to break free from the windowless cubicle inside my head. But breaking free meant letting go - a skill that required guts - and guts were visceral assets of which I believed I was 99 percent void

with patrons who wasted their quarters on Lynyrd Skynyrd all night long.