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Then Why Does Kenneth Anger Wear A Picture Locket On A Chain Around His Neck? On One Side Of The Locket There Is A Picture Of You; On The Other There Is An Image Of A Frog With An Inscription: "bobby Beausoleil Changed Into A Frog By Kenneth Anger." A Voodoo Amulet, So To Say.

-Truman Capote

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Then Why Does Kenneth

Truman Capote

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Then Why Does Kenneth Anger Wear A Picture Locket On A Chain Around His Neck? On One Side Of The Locket There Is A Picture Of You; On The Other There Is An Image Of A Frog With An Inscription: "bobby Beausoleil Changed Into A Frog By Kenneth Anger." A Voodoo Amulet, So To Say.

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It Is Very Seldom That A Person Loves Anyone They Cannot In Some Way Envy.

I Don't Mean I'd Mind Being Rich And Famous. That's Very Much On My Schedule, And Someday I'll Try To Get Around To It; But If It Happens, I'd Like To Have My Ego Tagging Along. I Want To Still Be Me When I Wake Up One Fine Morning And Have Breakfast At Tiffany's.

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I Think Of Myself As A Stylist, And Stylists Can Become Notoriously Obsessed With The Placing Of A Comma, The Weight Of A Semicolon.

She Took Off Her Dark Glasses And Squinted At Me. It Was As Though Her Eyes Were Shattered Prisms, The Dots Of Blue And Gray And Green Like Broken Bits Of Sparkle.

Poor Slob Without A Name. It's A Little Inconvenient, His Not Having A Name. But I Haven't The Right To Give Him One: He'll Have To Wait Until He Belongs To Somebody. We Just Sort Of Took Up By The River One Day, We Don't Belong To Each Other: He's An Independent, And So Am I. I Don't Want To Own Anything Until I Know I've Found The Place Where Me And Things Belong Together.

Those Final Weeks, Spanning End Of Summer And The Beginning Of Another Autumn, Are Blurred In Memory, Perhaps Because Our Understanding Of Each Other Had Reached That Sweet Depth Where Two People Communicate More Often In Silence Than In Words: An Affectionate Quietness Replaces The Tensions, The Unrelaxed Chatter And Chasing About That Produce A Friendship’s More Showy, More, In The Surface Sense, Dramatic Moments.

I Remember Things The Way They Should Have Been.

It's Bad Enough In Life To Do Without Something You Want; But Confound It, What Gets My Goat Is Not Being Able To Give Somebody Something You Want Them To Have.

Friendship Is A Pretty Full-time Occupation If You Really Are Friendly With Somebody. You Can't Have Too Many Friends Because Then You're Just Not Really Friends.

I Don't Use A Typewriter, I Write Longhand, With A Pencil. Essentially I'm A Horizontal Writer. I Think Better When I'm Lying Down.

I Always Write The End Of Everything First. I Always Write The Last Chapters Of My Books Before I Write The Beginning....then I Go Back To The Beginning. I Mean, It's Always Nice To Know Where You're Going Is My Theory.

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It May Be Normal, Darling; But I'd Rather Be Natural.

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I Think Most People Are Very, Very Much Motivated By Sex - Greed, Sex, And Hunger.

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The Instant She Saw The Letter She Squinted Her Eyes And Bent Her Lips In A Tough Tiny Smile That Advanced Her Age Immeasurably. "darling," She Instructed Me, "would You Reach In The Drawer There And Give Me My Purse. A Girl Doesn't Read This Sort Of Thing Without Her Lipstick.

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Then Why Does Kenneth Anger Wear A Picture Locket On A Chain Around His Neck? On One Side Of The Locket There Is A Picture Of You; On The Other There Is An Image Of A Frog With An Inscription: "bobby Beausoleil Changed Into A Frog By Kenneth Anger." A Voodoo Amulet, So To Say.

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I Knew Lee Harvey Oswald, And I Knew Jack Kennedy. The Odds Against That-one Person Knowing All Four Of Those Men-must Be Astounding.

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I'd Met Sharon Tate At The Cannes Film Festival.

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He’d Always Been Willing To Confess His Faults, For, By Admitting Them, It Was As If He Made Them No Longer Exist.

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Most People Who Become Suddenly Famous Overnight Will Find That They Lose Practically Eighty Percent Of Their Friends. Your Old Friends Just Can't Stand It For Some Reason.

The Way His Plump Hand Clutched At Her Hip Seemed Somehow Improper; Not Morally, Aesthetically.

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I Don't Want To Own Anything Until I Find A Place Where Me And Things Go Together.

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I Would Have Liked To Have Known Oscar Wilde Because I Think He Must Have Been Very Amusing And Entertaining.

When You've Got Nowhere To Turn, Turn On The Gas.

Nowhere To Turn

Aprils Have Never Meant Much To Me, Autumns Seem That Season Of Beginning, Spring.

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Failure Is The Condiment That Gives Success Its Flavor.

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Self Confidence

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But He Does Look Stupid.' Yearning. Not Stupid. He Wants Awfully To Be On The Inside Staring Out: Anybody With Their Nose Pressed Against A Glass Is Liable To Look Stupid.

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Pencil Sharpeners

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I Am Always Drawn Back To Places Where I Have Lived, The Houses And Their Neighborhoods.

I Used To Spend All Of My Time Projecting. I Was Never In The Moment. It Was Always Tomorrow Or Next Week Or Two Months From Now. That Was One Of The Reasons I Always Had This Sense Of Anxiety.

Mick Jagger Is About As Sexy As A Pissing Toad.

Anyone Who Ever Gave You Confidence, You Owe Them A Lot.

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She Sounds The Way Bananas Taste.

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I Just Live One Day At A Time. That's My New Theory In Life.

One Day At A Time

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Venice Is Like Eating An Entire Box Of Chocolate Liqueurs In One Go.

She Was A Triumph Over Ugliness, So Often More Beguiling Than Real Beauty, If Only Because It Contains Paradox. In This Case, As Opposed To The Scrupulous Method Of Good Taste And Scientific Grooming, The Trick Had Been Worked By Exaggerating Defects; She'd Made Them Ornamental By Admitting Them Boldly.

The Enemy Was Anyone Who Was Someone He Wanted To Be Or Who Had Anything He Wanted To Have.

But There Were Moments When She Played Songs That Made You Wonder Where She Learned Them, Where Indeed She Came From. Harsh-tender Wandering Tunes With Words That Smacked Of Pinewoods Or Prairie. One Went: Don’t Wanna Sleep, Don’t Wanna Die, Just Wanna Go A-travelin’ Through The Pastures Of The Sky; And This One Seemed To Gratify Her The Most, For Often She Continued It Long After Her Hair Hard Dried, After The Sun Had Gone And There Were Lighted Windows In The Dusk.

I'm Scarcely An Enfant!

Sometimes When I Think How Good My Book Can Be, I Can Hardly Breathe.

Are The Dead As Lonesome As The Living?

Mick Jagger Moves Like A Parody Between A Majorette Girl And Fred Astaire.

I Live In Brooklyn. By Choice. Those Ignorant Of Its Allures Are Entitled To Wonder Why.

So The Days, The Last Days, Blow About In A Memory, Hazy Autumnal, All Alike As Leaves: Until A Day Unlike Any Other I've Lived

The True Beloveds Of This World Are In Their Lover's Eyes Lilacs Opening, Ship Lights, School Bells, A Landscape, Remembered Conversations, Friends, A Child's Sunday, Lost Voices, One's Favorite Suit, Autumn And All Seasons, Memory, Yes, It Being The Earth And Water Of Existence, Memory.

I Loved Her Enough To Forget Myself, My Self Pitying Despairs, And Be Content That Something She Thought Happy Was Going To Happen.

I've Never Been A Teacher In My Life.

Jay Sebring Cut My Hair A Couple Of Times.

I Got This Idea Of Doing A Really Serious Big Work-it Would Be Precisely Like A Novel, With A Single Difference: Every Word Of It Would Be True From Beginning To End.

Lee Harvey Oswald Was Boiling Over About Everything: The American Ambassador; The Russians-he Was Mad At Them Because They Wouldn't Let Him Stay In Moscow. We Talked To Him For About Half An Hour, And My Italian Friend Didn't Think The Guy Was Worth Filing A Story About. Just Another Paranoid Hysteric; The Moscow Woods Were Rampant With Those. I Never Thought About Him Again, Not Until Many Years Later. Not Until After The Assassination When I Saw His Picture Flashed On Television.

Of Many Magics, One Is Watching A Beloved Sleep: Free Of Eyes And Awareness, You For A Sweet Moment Hold The Heart Of Him; Helpless, He Is Then All, And However Irrationally, You Have Trusted Him To Be, Man-pure, Child-tender.

Time. Time. What Is Time? Swiss Manufacture It, French Hoard It, Italians Squander It, Americans Say It Is Money. Hindus Say It Does Not Exist. Know What I Say? I Say Time Is A Crook.

Well, I'm About As Tall As A Shotgun, And Just As Noisy.

There Is Only One Unpardonable Sin--deliberate Cruelty. All Else Can Be Forgiven.

I'd Rather Have Cancer Than A Dishonest Heart. Which Isn't Being Pious. Just Practical. Cancer May Cool You, But The Other's Sure To.

The Feeble-minded, The Neurotic, The Criminal, Perhaps, Also, The Artist, Have Unpredictability And Perverted Innocence In Common.

I Despise People Who Can't Control Themselves.

But It's Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks Are Slow On Sundays.

You're Wonderful. Unique. I Love You.

Life Is Difficult Enough Without Meryl Streep Movies.

I'm Very Scared, Buster. Yes, At Last. Because It Could Go On Forever. Not Knowing What's Yours Until You've Thrown It Away.

Before Birth; Yes, What Time Was It Then? A Time Like Now, And When They Were Dead, It Would Be Still Like Now: These Trees, That Sky, This Earth, Those Acorn Seeds, Sun And Wind, All The Same, While They, With Dust-turned Hearts, Change Only.

Never Love A Wild Thing, Mr. Bell,’ Holly Advised Him. ‘that Was Doc’s Mistake. He Was Always Lugging Home Wild Things. A Hawk With A Hurt Wing. One Time It Was A Full-grown Bobcat With A Broken Leg. But You Can’t Give Your Heart To A Wild Thing; The More You Do, The Stronger They Get. Until They’re Strong Enough To Run Into The Woods. Or Fly Into A Tree. Then A Taller Tree. Then The Sky. That’s How You’ll End Up Mr. Bell. If You Let Yourself Love A Wild Thing. You’ll End Up Looking At The Sky.

I Also Write The Last Paragraph Or Page Of A Story First. That Way I Always Know What I'm Working Towards.

All Literature Is Gossip.

There Were Hints Of Sunrise On The Rim Of The Sky, Yet It Was Still Dark, And The Traces Of Morning Color Were Like Goldfish Swimming In Ink.

Imagination, Of Course, Can Open Any Door - Turn The Key And Let Terror Walk Right In.

My Major Regret In Life Is That My Childhood Was Unnecessarily Lonely.

Half The People Who Snuff People, That's What They Want: Recognition. Get Their Picture In The Paper.

Still, When All Is Said, Somewhere One Must Belong: Even The Soaring Falcon Returns To Its Master's Wrist.

Our Real Fears Are The Sounds Of Footsteps Walking In The Corridors Of Our Minds, And The Anxieties, The Phantom Floatings, They Create.

Fame Is Only Good For One Thing - They Will Cash Your Check In A Small Town.

The Quietness Of His Tone Italicized The Malice Of His Reply.

Many Universities Have Asked Me To Come For A Semester But I Don't Want To Do It Because I Don't Have The Patience.

I Prefer To Underwrite. Simple, Clear As A Country Creek.

Writing Has Laws Of Perspective, Of Light And Shade Just As Painting Does, Or Music. If You Are Born Knowing Them, Fine. If Not, Learn Them. Then Rearrange The Rules To Suit Yourself.

It Should Take You About Four Seconds To Walk From Here To The Door. I'll Give You Two.

You Got To Want It To Be Good, And I Don't Want It.

[y]outh Is Hardly Human: It Can't Be, For The Young Never Believe They Will Die...especially Would They Never Believe That Death Comes, And Often, In Forms Other Than The Natural One.

You Know The Days When You Get The Mean Reds? Paul Varjak: The Mean Reds. You Mean Like The Blues? Holly Golightly: No. The Blues Are Because You’re Getting Fat, And Maybe It’s Been Raining Too Long. You’re Just Sad, That’s All. The Mean Reds Are Horrible. Suddenly You’re Afraid, And You Don’t Know What You’re Afraid Of. Do You Ever Get That Feeling?

Of Course, At Their Best, Movies Are Anti-literature And, As A Medium, Belong Not To Writers, Not To Actors, But To Directors.

Think Of Nothing Things Think Of Wind

I Love New York, Even Though It Isn't Mine, The Way Something Has To Be, A Tree Or A Street Or A House, Something, Anyway, That Belongs To Me Because I Belong To It.

I Want To Still Be Me When I Wake Up One Fine Morning And Have Breakfast At Tiffany´s.

All Artists Are Two-headed Calves.

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