I haven't anything against whores, except this: some of them may have an honest tongue but they all have dishonest hearts. — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
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… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
“And yet, in a touching, shrunken way, she was rather pretty - a prettiness marred by her seeing to be precariously balanced… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
I couldn't understand a sense of unease that multiplied until I could hear my heart beating. — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
He loved her, he loved her, and until he'd loved her she had never minded being alone… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
Reading dreams. That's what started her walking down the road. Every day she'd walk a little further: a mile, and come home.… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
“It was not, however, an atmosphere she would have chosen for herself - the airless inescapable pressures of intimacy with others would… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
Before birth; yes, what time was it then? A time like now, and when they were dead, it would be still like… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
Of many magics, one is watching a beloved sleep: free of eyes and awareness, you for a sweet moment hold the heart… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep,… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
“A plaster girl with intense glass eyes sat astride a bicycle pedaling at the maddest pace; though its wheel spokes spun hypnotically,… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
But we are alone, darling child, terribly, isolated each from the other; so fierce is the world's ridicule we cannot speak or… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep,… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
“The blame of course belonged to Clyde, who just was not much given to talk. Also, he seemed very little curious himself:… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,’ Holly advised him. ‘That was Doc’s mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A… — Truman Capote Copy Share Image
“You can beat your brains out for her, and she’ll hand you horseshit on a platter.” — Truman Capote Copy Share
“The walls of the cell fell away, the sky came down, I saw the big yellow bird.” — Truman Capote Copy Share
There is really no practical help that one can offer; it is a matter of self-discovery, of one's own convictions, or working with one's… — Truman Capote Copy Share
“...Narcissus was so egotist...he was merely another of us who, in our unshatterable isolation, recognized, on seeing his reflection, the beautiful comrade, the only… — Truman Capote Copy Share
“Is it - I'm not certain - possible to love someone if your first interest is the use you can make of him? Doesn't… — Truman Capote Copy Share
One of the most difficult things in writing a novel or anything at all is to choose the point of view from which it's… — Truman Capote Copy Share
I've never worked for a newspaper. I've had some very bad reviews in newspapers. — Truman Capote Copy Share
But, my dear, so few things are fulfilled: what are most lives but a series of incompleted episodes? 'We work in the dark, we… — Truman Capote Copy Share
“…she, glittery voyager of secure destination, steamed down the harbor with whistles whistling and confetti in the air.” — Truman Capote Copy Share
“Because it's indeed difficult to portray, in any meaningful depth, another being, his appearance, speech, mentality, without to some degree, and often for quite… — truman capote Copy Share
“It's a bore, but the answer is good things only happen to you if you're good. Good? Honest is more what I mean. Not… — Truman Capote Copy Share
“In the courtyard there was an angel of black stone, and its angel head rose above giant elephant leaves; the stark glass angel eyes,… — Truman Capote Copy Share
