Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing.
Some must cry so that others may be able to laugh the more heartily. Sacrifices are necessary.
I would never be part of anything. I would never really belong anywhere, and I knew it, and all my life would be the same, trying to belong, and failing. Always something would go wrong. I am a stranger and I always will be, and after all I didn’t really care.
My life, which seems so simple and monotonous, is really a complicated affair of cafés where they like me and cafés where they don't, streets that are friendly, streets that aren't, rooms where I might be happy, rooms where I shall never be, looking-glasses I look nice in, looking-glasses I don't, dresses that will be lucky, dresses that won't, and so on.
All of writing is a huge lake. There are great rivers that feed the lake, like Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky. And then there are mere trickles, like Jean Rhys. All that matters is feeding the lake. I don't matter. The lake matters. You must keep feeding the lake.
Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only - to be left alone.
You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.
You want a lesson? I'll give you a lesson. How about a geography lesson? My father's from Puerto Rico. My mother's from El Salvador. And neither one of those is Mexico.
All men are created equal, except Negroes.
The Mother of Christ, who stands at the very center of this mystery. . . is given as mother to every single individual and all mankind.
I learned a lot. I really did. Millennium is a state of mind. I always thought of Frank Black as the greatest chess player that could take random pieces of information and string them together into a scenario that was accurate. I never thought of him as a psychic at all. We need people like that.