Quotes from Tiffanie DeBartolo

There's nothing more pathetic than dreaming dreams you know can never come true.

You wanna know how to make God laugh?" he said. "Tell him your plans.

I just happen to comprehend the low standards of the majority of the music-buying public, and I don't care how condescending that sounds, it's true. They always go for the shiny gimmicks. Always.

And when Paul dove to embrace me, the look on his face was one of absolute, perfect joy—the kind of joy that can't be reproached, stolen, or marred—the kind that only the innocent or the ignorant are capable of experiencing.

He called me an asshole and said, "I'll bury you!" like some comic book villain. I wanted to fucking scream my head off—I'm not your toy! Your puppet! Your whore! I'm a human goddamn being and I expect to be treated as such! Instead I told him I didn't want to be buried, I want to be cremated. And I want my ashes stored in a disco ball he can hang over his desk.

It was all I could do not to fall on my knees and weep like the bastard she always said I was, and I was a breath away from begging her to run away with me.

This is what it means to be in the middle of love, I thought. Being in the middle of love is like being in the middle of a war zone.

I was insanely jealous of Lucille. More jealous than I'd ever been of anyone in my entire life. Because she truly meant it. All I could think was, why can't I be as stupid as Lucille? Why can't I blame all my successes and all my failures on The Lord Jesus Christ Almighty? I would be so fucking happy if I lived like that.

He's more than just a good-looking guy and you know it." But, I thought, he doesn't have flashlight eyes or a cocky-bastard smile that can boil water or a voice from the heavens and most of all he says things like, It's only rock 'n' roll.

I took a closer look. Jesus had piercing blue eyes, dark hair that hung in a flawless mess, his body was emaciated and taut, his hands and feet dripped with blood, and nothing but a gauzy loincloth hid what looked like a nice package underneath. "Sexy," I said. "He looks like a rock star.

We hovered above the moment like two rain clouds

I was just sick, beaten, in a city of millions, of suffering by myself. I was twenty-seven going on sixty-five. I should have received Social Security for my misery.

Because a soul never truly loses hope until hope has turned to ashes, or has been buried six feet underground.

When dreams come true in reality they never feel the same as when you imagine them, and you know what that means? It means that no matter how good things are, maybe they'll never be good enough, and there's something seriously wrong with that.

As usual, no one's ever around when you need them.

I remember feeling it even then- the sensation that your heart weighs more than your body- that it might burst out of your chest and splatter all over the wall. I suppose it's called loneliness.

I didn't want to go through all the shit anymore- the feeling of being so fucking in love every single day that it hurt like a gunshot in your gut. Who the hell would want to feel like that for the rest of their life?

I couldn't feel anything," I finally told him. "I couldn't feel the truth. Does that make sense? Do you know what the truth feels like?" "I know what it sounds like.

How many times in your life are you allowed to say, "If only...?"

I love you. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. Siamese twin lovers, identical wombs, whatever the hell you called it. All I want in life is to drive out of this horrible, soul-destroying state with you someday.

He was waiting for something from me. Acknowledgement. Validation. Commiseration, perhaps. I couldn't even look at him because I was afraid of feeling any more than I already did.

That's why you have to save the dying man. Because you want him around to keep saving you.

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. 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.

It drives me crazy when people know me well enough to remind me what I believe.