white-oleander

Who am I? I am who I say I am and tomorrow someone else entirely. You are too nostalgic, you want memory to secure you, console you. The past is a bore. What matters is only oneself and what one creates from what one has learned. Imagination uses what it needs and discards the rest_ where you want to erect a museum. Don't hoard the past, Astrid. Don't cherish anything. Burn it. The artist is the phoenix who burns to emerge.

I almost said, you__e not broken, you__e just going through something. But I couldn__. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn__ worked.

The question of good and the nature of evil will always be one of philosophy__ most intriguing problems, up there with the problem of existence itself. If evil means to be self-motivated, to be the center of one__ own universe, to live on one__ own terms, then every artist, thinker, every original mind, is evil. Because we dare to look through our own eyes rather than mouth clichés lent us from the so-called Fathers. To dare to see is to steal fire from the Gods. This is mankind__ destiny, the engine which fuels us as a race.

...and I thought, there was no God, there was only what you wanted.

We tried not to be in the same room at the same time when Starr was home, we set the air on fire between us.

Never let a man stay the night,_ she told me. __awn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.

Rena noticed me watching it pass. 'You think they don't got problem?' Rena said. 'Everybody got problem. You got me, they got insurance, house payment, Preparation H.' She smiled, baring the part between her two upper teeth. 'We are the free birds. They want to be us.

Don't turn over the rocks if you don't want to see the pale creatures who live under them.

We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.

In a perverse way, I was glad for the stitches, glad it would show, that there would be scars. What was the point in just being hurt on the inside? It should bloody well show.