laura’s Loved Quotes

I'm cookie dough. I'm not done baking. I'm not finished becoming who ever the hell it is I'm gonna turn out to be. I make it through this, and the next thing, and the next thing, and maybe one day, I turn around and realize I'm ready. I'm cookies.

On my deathbed, my final wish is to have my ex-wives rush to my side so I can use my dying breath to tell them both to go to hell one last time.

If any of you need anything at all: too bad. Deal with your problems yourselves like adults.

When people get too chummy with me, I like to call them by the wrong name to let them know I don't really care about them.

The less you know, the better you sleep.

Congratulations: you’re a writer, and the reason you’re good at it is because your life kinda sucks.

You know when sometimes you meet someone so beautiful and then you actually talk to them and five minutes later they're as dull as a brick? Then there's other people, when you meet them you think, "Not bad. They're okay." And then you get to know them and... and their face just sort of becomes them. Like their personality's written all over it. And they just turn into something so beautiful.

"... the future lies this way"

Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Or woods or steepy mountain yields.

Problematize - The blame for this awful neologism lies with academia, where the word serves no apparent purpose except to demonstrate one's mastery of obscurantist jargon.

GIve me a copper coin and I will tell you a golden tale.

Quantity produces quality. If you only write a few things, you’re doomed.

In utter loneliness a writer tries to explain the inexplicable.

If you could see humanity spread out in time, as God sees it, it would look like one single growing thing - rather like a very complicated tree. Every individual would appear connected with every other.

The only thing I know for sure is that the words I read as coming from Jesus Christ are the most truthful thing I have ever heard.

I met Murder on the way -
He had a mask like Castlereagh -
Very smooth he looked, yet grim,
Seven bloodhounds followed him.

Conrad: "You really are a son of a bitch, aren't you?"
Tyler: "Yes. It does appear that you despicable people are starting to rub off on me."

A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading.

John: Oh, please, can we not do this this time?
Sherlock: Do what?
John: You being all mysterious with your cheekbones and turning your coat collar up so you look cool.
Sherlock: I don't do that.

Hell is full of musical amateurs: music is the brandy of the damned.