Author of quotes: Poppy Brite. Page 1

The day rolled along the curve to hell.

If you love someone, really love him, don't want you to take it with you when you yourself will die?

Suddenly it struck like a thunderbolt: this, too, is the power. The same tangible, like a punch in the face, the same unconditional, like the crunch of a skull under the hammer. The power to make a person go crazy from pleasure and not from fear and pain. To keep his power in every cell of the body to another.

If you love someone, it is necessary to thoroughly know his body inside and outside. You have to be ready to taste it, breathe it, wallow in it.

The world - entirely red with gold, sweat, smoke, the joy with the pain.

Money is just a piece of paper that you exchanged for you the things you need.

Art is not a mirror but a hammer.

He didn't trust the dream. You close your eyes and travel to another country, and while you're there, anything - anything - can happen. The whole world can for you to snatch.

His room - cold square box, but also a refuge, since he could paint here, and no one was looking over his shoulder.

He wasn't trying to make friends, and he mostly went unnoticed.

They are not allowed to touch yourself. For the most part, solitary. Trevor thought that if ever he will not be able to draw, he dies. This ability he always kept hidden in the corner of consciousness: the consolation of rope or razor, the confidence of the poison on the shelf that's just waiting to be swallowed. But, before leaving, he did not take.

Four-fifths of his life, he wondered why he was not dead.

Trevor even imagine could not, as it is not to draw. He could always force to move the arm. A blank page has always been a challenge, a place that needed to be filled.

To blame for the troubles the computer is like, dying of lung cancer, blame cigarettes.