What shall we do, all of us? All of us oassionate girls who fear crushing the boys we love with our mouths… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
What happens to the rest of something when you smash its heart? — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
I wrote poetry from the time I could write. That was the only way I could begin to express who I was… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
My heart is a teacup with hairline cracks. I feel like I have to walk real carefully so it won't get shaken… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
She had changed him. The ice was in his eyes and in his heart, like he had predicted with that song, but… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
All the things that girls feel they are not when they fear that if they become, if they are, they will no… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
You turned your head to look at me. Your eyes looked so big in your face, so mysterious — wide and flickering… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“valentine my friends stitched it up with golden thread like a red satin pillow they gave me other whole ones too roses… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
If Los Angeles is a woman reclining billboard model with collagen-puffed lips and silicone-inflated breasts, a woman in a magenta convertible with… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
We got quiet. The garden was combing her hair and putting on earrings. The house was full of dancing creatures, not male… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
You're meant to have whatever your heart desires. Whatever your heart wants that much is already a part of you. — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
You are my Marilyn. You are my lake full of fishes. You are my sky set, my 'Hollywood in Miniature,' my pink… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
Pianos, unlike people, sing when you give them your every growl. They know how to dive into the pit of your stomach… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
Ugster vinyl pumps, Partridge Family records, plastic daisy jewelry, old postcards. . . . It's a magpie Christmas market. — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
Sometimes I wanted to peel away all of my skin and find a different me underneath. — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
The circus tent was flowing pale in the rain like a fleshy flower lit from within. It seemed to bloom in the downpour. Drops… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
I think depression creates in me an urgent need to write, but I also believe that daily stress, and even the positive stress of… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“It’s hard to remember what you fall in love with. Usually it is an expression in the eyes, an exchange, or a gesture or… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“Weetzie and My Secret Agent Lover Man and Dirk and Duck and Cherokee and Witch Baby and Slinkster Dog and Go-Go Girl and the… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“When you look at pain as material it makes all the difference in the world. I thought, the pain that is too big to… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
If Death is your father, you don't ever have to worry about what part of his body the disease will strike next. If Death… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“My mind is like the valley—this vast barren waste. Car lots. Malls. Tract homes. I know there are other worlds beyond it—of canyons full… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“And then I cried a flood of tears as if I really were a mermaid who had absorbed too much sea into herself. The… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
“Sylvie wishes the anti-depressants had been around when she was in her early twenties, not only to rescue her from the dark tunnels that… — Francesca Lia Block Copy Share Image
