Greed is good. Sex is easy. Youth is forever.
BRET EASTON ELLISI don’t really need to pretend, because it’s who I am, an emotional vampire. I’ve just come to expect it. Vampires are real. That I was born this way. That I feed off of other people’s real emotions. Search for this night’s prey. Who will it be?
More Bret Easton Ellis Quotes
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I want to moan and writhe with you and I want to go up to you and kiss your mouth and pull you to me and say “I love you I love you I love you” while stripping. I want you so bad it stings.
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I don’t want to care. If I care about things, it’ll just be worse, it’ll just be another thing to worry about. It’s less painful if I don’t care.
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There’s no use in denying it: this has been a bad week. I’ve started drinking my own urine.
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And,” Price adds, smiling, “if another round of Bellinis comes within a twenty-foot radius of our table we are going to set the maitre d’ on fire. So you know, warn him.
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I like the idea of a writer being haunted by his own creation, especially if the writer resents the way the character defines him.
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Writing fiction is an act of imagination and fantasizing, and it’s not relating in prose what you’ve been doing for the last two or three years.
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At Columbus Circle, a juggler wearing a trench cloak and top hat, who is usually at this location afternoons and who calls himself Stretch Man, performs in front of a small, uninterested crowd; though I smell prey, and he seems worthy of my wrath.
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I feel like I’m not smart enough to answer the questions I’m asked.
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People can get accustomed to anything, right? Habit does things to people.
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I’ve been accused of being very vain about my apathy.
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People just… disappear,” he says. “The Earth just opens up and swallows people,” I say, some what sadly, checking my Rolex. “Eerie.” Kimball yawns, stretching. “Really eerie.” “Ominous.” I nod my agreement. “It’s just”- he sights, exasperated- “futile.
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It’s like my characters, all my men are Dad and me in a mess; all my female characters are smart and hopeful, like Mom just trying to make the best of things.
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What does that mean know me, know me, nobody ever knows anybody else, ever! You will never know me.
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You don’t market-research a novel; you really are writing it for yourself. It’s a hobby, in many ways. The problem becomes what you do when you’re confronted by criticism. You just don’t listen to it.
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It’s as if her mind is having a hard time communicating with her mouth, as if she is searching for a rational analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there… is… no… key.
BRET EASTON ELLIS






