My breath in the cold air was bleach that accidentally spilled on a black t-shirt. — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“You can learn how to be an aristocrat by following a few rules in a very short book. There is nothing to it.” He… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“I decided to get my butt up out of the coffin, just like Jesus Christ, and come and chitchat with all my beautiful and… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
In Lullabies, I wanted to capture what I remembered of the drunken babbling of unfortunate twelve-year-olds: their illusions, their ludicrously bad choices, their lack… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“You know you're my best friend, right?' he said. I shrugged. I guessed it was true. Now that I wasn't going to be at… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“Jules and I were tiny people. We were delicate. We were almost destroyed. We were vulnerable. Like nerds in a school yard of bullies,… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“When you’re young, sex doesn’t mean as much, it isn’t sacred. Children make the best prostitutes because they’re th emost perfunctory about the whole… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“Being a woman was a trap. Something would bring you down before you turned twenty-three. The only time the world shows you any favor,… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
Sometimes when you are standing still and it’s snowing, you think that you hear music. You can’t tell where it’s coming from either. I… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“What are they supposed to do when they've been told their whole lives not to believe in fairy tales?” — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
“Felix was in his room singing into a tape recorder then playing it back and exclaiming, “My God. Do I actually sound like this?… — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
Adolescents are still children in that they can't yet tell the difference between make believe and fiction. — Heather O'Neill Copy Share Image
