I certainly wanted to write a book that was honest about New Orleans without explaining it to death, so much so that the first draft contained references absolutely incomprehensible to anyone who hasn't lived here for several years. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
“The last dying days of summer, fall coming on fast. A cold night, the first of the season, a change from the usual bland Maryland climate. Cold, thought the boy; his mind felt numb. The trees he could see through… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
My childhood may have been more demented than most, because I learned to read very early and was allowed to read whatever I wanted. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
If you’re ever lucky enough to belong somewhere, if a place takes you in and you take it into yourself, you don't desert it… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
Young writers shouldn't be afraid of striving to emulate their favorites. It's a good way to learn, as long as you move on from… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
Mostly I enjoy the restaurants (my husband is a chef), though I wish we had a wider diversity of ethnic food. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
Celebrities, even insignificant ones like me, are created to be abused by the Great Unwashed. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
Horror is the badge of humanity, worn proudly, self-righteously, and often falsely. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
“+ He wasn’t much for erasing anyway. Sometimes your mistakes showed you the really interesting connections between your brain, your hand, and your heart,… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
You can only maintain an immensely gothic attitude for so long before either killing yourself or beginning to feel like a poser. — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
I've certainly learned a great deal from my husband, though, and could never have written a book like Liquor without him and the people… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
“They were kissing again, carefully at first, learning the shape and texture of each other's lips, testing the sharpness of the teeth behind them.… — Poppy Z. Brite Copy Share Image
