Quotes from Tiffanie DeBartolo

I think I was about to say that if I ever see Eliza again—and the fact that this is even a remote possibility is—I don't know what it is, a goddamn miracle, maybe? After I kiss her and hold her and let her touch my chest, I'm going to hang her upside down and employ Chinese water torture until she promises never to be so stupid again.

I asked John if it was a crime to want to live in a world where girls with falcon eyes and pretty underwear believe in the saving grace of rock 'n' roll and he said, "Just check your chute before you jump, that's all I'm saying." Gotta get some sleep. Over.

That's exactly how he looked the last time I saw him—floating around, entangled in the moon.

It was as if all the melancholy I'd ever known, all the nights I sat alone thinking life sucked, had added up to our place in the world- finally a good place- and the spirit of that rightness was meant to echo on until the end of time.

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.

I told her she was brave and she said, "I'm not brave, I'm in love." Ha. Same goddamn thing.

Los Angeles signed a pact with the devil and lost its soul a long time ago, you know? It flourishes, but it's doomed.

You're the world's muse, Trixie." "I just want to be your muse." "Done.

I heard a voice in my head. It said: I would rather be alone than ever be my mother. I will leave before I am left.

When you're twenty-three and you fall in love, you tend to think that love will supersede any problems. But no matter how much you love somebody, no matter how desperately you want a relationship to work, life can act as an oxidizer and corrode it to pieces.

There's nothing like heartbreak to crack a person wide open. But the cracks can sometimes act as reservoirs too.

Some people think art is pretending, but to me it's the opposite. It's the one place where you can't pretend.

I led Paul out the door, and neither of us said a word while we crossed the street. Once we made it to the other side, Paul stopped to stare at the building. He was babbling incoherently. The only words I caught were "fucking uptown" and "pancreas." He still had the doorman's pen in his hand.

People always ask if Burke and Caelum are brothers because they're both so tall, and neither Michael seems bothered by the question, but it drives me out of my mind because besides the height they look nothing alike. Burke's got blond hair and freckles. Caelum has a mass of dark pubic hair growing out of his head. Plus, how the hell could they be brothers when they have the same first name? That only works if your last one is Foreman.

I'm trying to quit," he said. "Just so you know." He lit the cigarette and inhaled so long and so deep it sounded like air being let out of a tire.

Across the hall, Paul was either fucking the girl or murdering her, I couldn't tell which. I smelled mothballs. The afghan was going to have to go.

I almost died. Fortunately, my mother was a nurse. She gave me a shot of something, and things turned out brilliantly." Lucky me, I thought. Why couldn't his mother have been a telephone operator?

I had scars. But my scars also served to instill a kind of reverence in me. Reverence that, during times of weakness, became shrouded in darkness.

I hoped his last sensation was the euphoria. The peace. The love. I had to believe it was the love.

Happiness is elusive, for sure.But like love, and music, I believe in it because I can feel it.

Camp? You mean like sleep outside?" "No, I mean dress in drag," Jacob said sarcastically.

Because while a book, a painting, a song, a piece of pottery, a tree can outlive us, none of those things will exist forever. But love is an energy. It's infinite.

Everyone might as well say good-bye to them now, these two aren't coming back.

He turned and looked up at me with the face of a needy child and the eyes of an ancient shaman.